All The World's A Stage SYOT
by PenMagic
Summary: The 65th Hunger Games have rolled around and the Capitol are hungry for something with flair, something with a little bit of All That Jazz...the Gamemakers promise a showstopper every year but this year they are pushing the boundaries a little further, testing new waters. Can the risks be successful, or have the tributes and Gamemakers alike made just one mistake too many?
1. Chapter 1

**HELLO! Welcome to my THIRD SYOT! Man, it has gone by so quickly! So this is All The World's A Stage, I would recommend that if you haven't read Wish Upon A Star that you do, there will be many references to the story throughout this one. If you want to read Time And Memory Warp then be my guest but it isn't necessary.**

**So my introduction chapters are never actually that long. This will just give you a flavour of what my writing style is like. If you are interested in submitting a tribute, the tribute form will be on my profile along with the tribute list.****  
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**So this is the 65th Hunger Games. In my timeline, Finnick won the 64th Hunger Games and so this year, we will see some interesting tributes battle it out for the next title of Victor. There is a Victor blog on my profile if you are interested at looking at my take on the Victors of Panem.**

**PLEASE NOTE: this is not a first-come first served basis, I will accept tributes whose forms have been fully filled out, who are interesting and unique and who I think can add something to the story. It is preferable if you use a tribute that hasn't been used in another story but I won't check (although if it's a story I have read then naturally I will know)**

**So I will let you now read the story and it picks up at the end of the 63rd Hunger Games.**

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><p>Inside his private office, Coriolanus Snow clenched his fist, his teeth gritted as he stared at the screen that was playing the arena disappearing from sight as Aedan O'Hara was lifted from the arena, the latest Victor of the Hunger Games. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was in charge of Panem, he was in charge of everything and he had told, nay he had demanded that Sunshine Odale should win the Games. She was sweet, innocent and unassuming. She had fooled everyone except Snow, who could see what the little girl really was. She would have been the perfect ambassador for his new scheme.<p>

And what had happened? The arena had disobeyed the highest orders. The tributes had disobeyed orders that, admittedly, they didn't completely realise had to be followed. And what was the result? The boy from 4 who had had only moderate success with the Capitolites, who had had received very few sponsors and, from the readings that had been coming from the Gamemakers, he wasn't the most mentally stable tribute, had come out alive. If it was some bad dream, or terrible nightmare, then he needed to snap out of it and get back to reality.

He had to fix this and fast. He picked up the telephone that sat ornately on his desk and rang a number he had used many a time but had heard many different voices on the end.

"Mr. Ridgeway?" His voice was icy cold, his smile fixed on his face. "Come to my office, we have things to talk about."

"Yes…yes President Snow." The stutter, the fear that he thrived off, was evident in the voice as the phone clicked off.

He didn't have to wait long, a President should never be kept waiting and anyone immediately under his command, knew that all too well. The timid knock on the door came mere minutes later and Snow leant back in his chair, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Come on in Scorpius."

The door opened cautiously to reveal the slight man who was wringing his hands, unsure of what he was going to be faced with, his head bowed. "Good afternoon President Snow."

Snow smiled slightly and nodded to the chair that was sat opposite him. "Sit down Scorpius." The man hurried into the seat, twiddling his thumbs. "Another Games over. Your first."

The man, well barely a boy at just over 29 years of age, smiled ever so slightly. "I hope it was to your satisfaction."

Snow tilted his head slightly, elongating his words further, knowing that Scorpius would merely feel the pain he needed to. "Mr. Ridgeway, why did you not follow my orders?"

Scorpius visibly shuddered, trying to keep his composure. They both knew exactly what Snow was talking about, there was no need to spell it out. "I followed your orders as much as I could sir." He muttered.

Snow leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands and letting his gaze rest on Scorpius. "So why then, if you claim that you followed my orders, did Sunshine Odale not win the Games? Why did a tribute who was not a Capitol favourite and did not gain the sponsors any tribute of his status should have done, win the Games? I had demanded that it would in the best interest of the Capitol and indeed of Panem if Miss Odale won."

Scorpius bit his lip. "I wish I could answer that sir. We gave Sunshine as much as we could without showing the audience that we were interfering. They don't like it when that happens."

Snow sighed slightly. "I do not want to have to get rid of you Scorpius, there is something that I like about you. I will give you one more year Scorpius, to deliver me the best Games you and your team can come up with. This time next year, we will meet again to discuss the result of the Games. And I expect the highest quality next year. I want all the stops pulled out. Do I make myself clear?"

Scorpius nods furiously. "Yes, yes President Snow. I've already begun work on ideas for next year's games."

Snow nodded curtly. "Good day Mr. Ridgeway."

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><p><em><strong>1 year later – the finale of the 64<strong>__**th**__** Hunger Games**_

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><p>My eyes have been glued to the screen that I've been watching with a great sense of impatience for the last week. Is this how Jackson felt last year? Watching me in the final battle of my Games, fighting for my life? I shouldn't be watching this, technically Finnick is Mags' tribute but she wanted my help and help I gladly gave after I found myself with nothing to do. I lost Ria on the third day. It wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault; I try to tell that to myself every day, I try to ignore the fact that I couldn't bring her home. But we have another hope. We can't give up now. Finnick Odair, the boy I had volunteered to save last year, was now on a rampage, fighting for his own life because he had chosen to do so.<p>

"Come on Finnick, you can do it!" I murmur but I want to shout it as he guards the Cornucopia, readying his trident to fend off the three remaining tributes. They'd be foolish to come anywhere near him, the stunning 5ft 2in boy has been a favourite of Capitol since his arrival and they stand no chance against that trident that he wields. Especially if he is a Capitol favourite, I have heard rumours of the Gamemakers manipulating the Games in certain tributes' favour if they want them to win.

Every mentor this year has gathered in the small room, now that the final showdown is approaching. Gloss stares at the screen, watching his tribute hiding nearby. Haymitch lounges back in his own seat, his eyes on the screen as he swigs a glass of beer, his own tribute has held her own until now and there is nothing we can do. Cecilia sits between me and Haymitch, her nose almost touching the screen as she silently wishes her own tribute to not do what she is doing, going around the back of the Cornucopia to try and catch anyone by surprise. She's a fool to think that Finnick won't hear and kill her in an instant and Cecelia knows it.

You can hear a pin drop in the room as the gator mutts push the tributes towards the centre, forcing them together in a tighter area. This is it, the final showdown that mentors, districts and the Capitol alike wait for. I can barely watch, the scream from District 8 girl as she finds Gloss' tribute is followed by a canon as Cecilia's screen goes blank tells me enough. There is a sympathetic pat on the back for her from Woof who stands beside her.

I can feel the breath on the back of my neck of the other mentors as they watch the big screen where everything can be seen. I still don't feel comfortable with Luisa Laney being here, standing just four tributes away from me. She was the one who killed my sister, she was the one responsible and I've had to sit through this entire show with her. I want to forget, I want to forgive. Haven't I taken my revenge? Haven't I killed the girl from 6, Steph, the one thing that I set out to do when I went into the Games? So why do I still feel uneasy?

A hand slams down on the desk as I hear the unmistakable clink of trident against sword; the two weapons of choice for the two Career tributes as supposedly the sextet from 1, 2 and 4 are now almost officially called. Gloss is angry, I can hear him seething through his teeth and I tear my eyes away from the wall, forcing myself to watch the fight. Haymitch's kid is staying at a safe distance, wise girl. I owe Finnick as much to watch either his final moments of life or his penultimate battle.

"YES!" I can't help but let out a cheer as Finnick swipes away the sword in the other boy's hand and sharply lodges his trident in the throat of the other. I shouldn't cheer over a kid's death, I really shouldn't. But I do. Finnick pushes the boy, who has blood gushing from his throat, off the trident and turns to the small girl who must be 13 or so, they look about the same age, as the canon sounds. He looks at her with almost pity in his hazel eyes before he takes out a throwing knife from his belt in his arena uniform. She tries to back away from him but the alligators are snapping at her heels. She knows it is death or death; she doesn't even have a chance.

Haymitch isn't laughing as he has been throughout the rest of the Games. That guy seriously needs to start watching his liquor consumption or he'll never bring a Victor home to help him. He hiccups slightly, the only sound in the room as Finnick advances on the girl. She looks from side to side, trying to find a space in the gators, trying to look for a way out. But they're both surrounded, she has no weapon and Finnick has killed half of the tributes in the arena. She should be as scared as she looks.

"Please, make it over quickly." She whimpers, her grey eyes closing in terror.

Finnick smiles the smile that has charmed the nation. "It's the least I can do." He murmurs before he throws the trident to her heat, hitting its target. The canon sounds before she can hit the floor from the impact.

Haymitch lets out a string of words that I have only heard from the mouths of the rough sailors in 4. He stands up, shakily making his way over to me before offering a hand. "Congratulations are in order O'Hara, I guess." He murmurs, looking momentarily back at the two black screens.

I nod and take the hand, accepting District 4's second victory in two years. "Thanks Haymitch well played."

He grunts and moves out of the door, the other mentors not far behind him. It's all over for them for another year. Mags offers me a toothless smile and I can't help but smile back. We did it. We brought another District 4 kid back home. What would Dad say? Would he be proud? Of course he would be, he's been at this for years. He'd be more disappointed if I didn't bring someone back, wouldn't he? Another year over, another Games I've fought through as much as the tributes.

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><p><strong>Awesome sauce, so there you have it! A little snippet as to how I write my Games. Right, so my tribute form is on my profile.<strong>

**ALSO PLEASE NOTE: I do NOT accept tributes via review as this violates policies, I will accept tributes through PM ONLY!**

**As soon as I have a district filled, I will start the Reapings. Although do not expect these to be very fast updates as I am currently on the home stretch of NaNoWriMo, the National Novel Writing Month where you write 50,000 words in 30 days, I hit 30,000 words today so I'm on a roll!**

**Don't forget to review and submit to see what happens next!**

**Happy writing,**

**PenMagic x**


	2. The Tributes

**HOLLA! I'm sorry that it has taken so long to get this list of tributes up! I managed to finish NaNoWriMo! Now I am just refining it, plus i am involved in a musical this week and I'm trying to finish a play I'm writing. I will try to write a Reapings chapter within the next week.**

**This is a current working list of tributes as I ****haven't received enough tributes for all the districts. If your tributes doesn't appear on the list, this doesn't mean that they haven't been accepted to the story. These are the ones that I definitely have accepted. Do feel free to send in more than one tribute if you want! Submissions are still more than welcome, I need a few more younger tributes as I have quite a few older tributes as much as I love them.**

**Oh, I am sure that a few of you are wondering how I am fitting this into THG canon given that Mockingjay Part 1 confirmed that Finnick won the 65th Hunger Games. Well...I'm just gonna throw that out of the window because I can. So this isn't exactly canon...but hey...Finnick is alive and well and has gone through the Games. What did everyone think of the film? I personally loved it.**

**So enjoy this little excerpt seeing two very familiar faces and the Reapings will start.**

**And PLEASE don't be downhearted if your tribute hasn't been chosen so far, I will hopefully be getting more tributes in as I update this story. Weirdly I haven't had nearly as many female submissions as I have had male submissions but please keep them coming in!**

**I should probably let you guys read it now...do let me know what you think!**

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><p>The folder filled with paper in his piece of hands was shaking, even more so than his own hands were already. He was going ot meet the President of Panem. He was going ot finally get to see the man face to face. It had been a dream of his since he was a little boy that he would get to work and meet the man at the top. And now he was working for him and he was now going to meet him.<p>

His heart was beating at one hundred miles an hour as he placed one foot in front of the other, stepping carefully as he attempted to make as little noise as possible. He didn't want to disturb the President, that would be suicide. Taking a deep breath, he stopped in her tracks at the end of a plush carpeted corridor. At the end of this corridor stood a marble door. Ornate carvings decorated the panels that marked its special design that marked it out as different from the rest. It was the only door in the corridor.

Breathing heavily once, he raised a fist and knocked three times. He couldn't be seen as weak, he couldn't see seen as having any kind of flaws when that was exactly what the President of Panem preyed and fed off. "Enter."

The one word was filled with authority and perhaps nearly hate but she turned the doorknob slowly and pushed the door open slowly. President Coriolanus Snow sat behind his desk, his jet black curly hair tied up was fast fading into white, the specks were more obvious and more prominent than they had been two years ago. Small glasses were perched on the end of his nose as his eyes were cast downwards, not looking at him. What should he do? Should he say something? Should he leave?

Hesitantly he paused in the doorway of the room. The room itself was a marvel to look at, he had to do everything she could not to look around and take it all in. He wasn't here for that, he was here for the man who sat at the ornate mahogany, it was all the rage in the Capitol at the moment, desk that had piles upon piles of paper stretched over it. Carvings of animals and weapons were intricately added into the deep wood.

Shelves and shelves lined the room, filled with books that both looked old and new, leather bound or paperback, the whole range was there. A large bay window provided an absolutely stunning view over the Capitol, the sun was just starting to set on the distant horizon and the tops of the buildings could be seen way below them as the main building for all affairs, the current, cultural and political and their placement.

After what seemed like an age of waiting, President Snow finally looked up from his work, his cold grey eyes locking gaze with the young man who stood at the door, his eyes cast downwards and hands clasped. "Can I help you?"

He looked up. "I'm sorry to bother you Mr President, I have the list that you requested. The list of the current tributes who have been reaped for this year's Games. We are still waiting on the Reapings for some of the districts and this is the latest data, some of the Reapings were still happening when the information was sent. We have also been hard at work to try and collect as much information on the tributes for you. I apologise that this isn't the complete list but I was told oyu wanted an update as soon as possible."

He held out the folder slightly, unsure whether to step forward and come any closer to the President. The older man nodded curtly. "Thank you, I expect a full set of information by tomorrow morning."

He nodded immediately. "Yes, of course sir."

Snow looked at the young man with an eyebrow raised. "Well then, step forward and put it on my desk, surely you don't expect me to come and get it from you, do you?"

He stepped forward without hesitation, placing the folder swiftly on the folder and straightening it out so that it looked perfectly straight as it needed to be. "Sorry Mr President, of ocurse."

Keeping his gaze level, he stepped back smartly. Snow picked up the folder and glanced at the first few pages. "I think we can work with these tributes." He looked up at the young man who was before him. There was something about him that he liked, that made sense in a world that could sometimes make absolutely no sense whatsoever. This one was a keeper. "How long have you been working here?"

The young man paused momentarily as he thought back, he had to get the answer right, he couldn't lie. People in power always knew when you were lying. It was a trick they all seemed ot posses. "Three months Mr President."

Snow nodded, satisfied. Yes, this one was definitely a keeper. "Well, I look forward to seeing what you will bring to the Games. What's your name citizen?"

The young man smiled slightly, praise from the very top! No, he couldn't become too big headed about it. "Crane, sir. Seneca Crane."

Snow nodded, sotring the name in the back of his head for future reference. "Very well Mr Crane. You are dismissed."

Seneca nodded and opened the door behind him. "Thank you for your time Mr President. Have good day and Happy Hunger Games."

Snow let a small smirk fall on his face. "Happy Hunger Games indeed." He murmured as Seneca left. Looking back at the list that was on the first page, he smiled slightly. Yes, this would be a happy Hunger Games.

_**District 1 Male – Bastian Pier (18)**_

_**District 1 Female – Carina Lavell (18)**_

_**District 2 Male – Ephraim Alister (18)**_

_**District 2 Female – Brilliant 'Brill' Austin (12)**_

_**District 3 Male – Ramin Navarro (18)**_

_**District 3 Female – Kite Boggess (17)**_

_**District 4 Male – Twilight Magnificence Fayning (18)**_

_**District 4 Female – Eirini 'Rini' Emerson (17)**_

_**District 5 Male – Sekhmet Trannen (14)**_

_**District 5 Female – Electra Watt (15)**_

_**District 6 Male – Dorian Dumont (18)**_

_**District 6 Female – Jasmyne Taylor (14)**_

_**District 7 Male – Banian 'Ban' Platanus (14)**_

_**District 7 Female – Embree 'Bree' Chimer (15)**_

_**District 8 Male – Smithe Cooper (16)**_

_**District 8 Female – Naedle Olliston (16)**_

_**District 9 Male – Negan Candoth (18)**_

_**District 9 Female – Metis Larkin (16)**_

_**District 10 Male – Stag Browning (18)**_

_**District 10 Female – Oakley Shelton (13)**_

_**District 11 Male – Breeze Thicket (14)**_

_**District 11 Female – Husk Whetstone (18)**_

_**District 12 Male – Daniel 'Danny' Attkins (14)**_

_**District 12 Female – Danielle 'Danni' Attkins (14)**_

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><p><strong>What did you think of this little excerpt? Did your tribute get in? Remember if they haven't so far, you are more than welcome to submit another tribute.<strong>

**See you guys next time for the first of the Reapings, which won't necessarily be in order. And keep your eye out for this chapter as I will update it.**

**Happy writing and see you guys soon,**

**PenMagic x**


	3. Stickler and Charmer

**I'VE GOT ALL MY TRIBUTES! Check my profile and chapter 2 for the full list of tributes! It's shaping up to be a wonderful Games.**

**To all of you who didn't get a tribute in, I am really sorry! I got the most amount of tributes I have ever received for an SYOT and it was so hard to choose which tributes to put in. Believe me when I say that if your tribute wasn't chosen, it is no reflection on you or your tribute and I hope that you will continue to read the story.**

**I am hoping to get a blog up for the tributes which will mark their progress over the Games before the next chapter is up. I am one of those weird writers who doesn't write the Reapings in order. So I am proud to present Sassfrass Mercy (my own creation), Banian Platanus (thanks to President Snowflake) and Embree Chimer (Emimawi)!**

**Do let me know what you think in the review box! I would have posted the chapter yesterday but it was my birthday yesterday and my sister took me to see Wicked for the first time! I'm 20 now...ugh I feel so old...**

**Merry Christmas to you all and enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sassfrass Mercy (24) – Victor of the 57<strong>**th**** Hunger Games**

Today is the day. It comes around every year. Every year the four occupants of the Victor's Village hope that perhaps this year, perhaps this year will be the year that there isn't a Reaping. That there aren't going to be two children who are going to be sent to their deaths. And it was the day that two of them would have to start reliving their own Games. The couple of weeks of their teenage years that they wished so much that they could forget.

Bare foot placed in front another foot as they padded down the corridor of a house that was completely sudden. Deep brown eyes looked up through a mop of light brown hair as he stared up at the four portraits that lined the left hand side of the cream coloured wall. They were accurate portraits of the four children he had lost over the last two years. Well, he hadn't mentored last year but he still cared. They all cared. Flint Decker aged 18. Quincy Haisley aged 17. Rack Robins, aged 13. Arielle Peters aged 15. The two last years hadn't even made it past the first day. It was time for a change. It was time that District 7 got them another Victor.

At the end of the corridor stood a white door, the main entrance for anyone who wanted to come in to the house. Not that many people around here did, and if they did they were only interested in the pictures. Soon he would have to leave that house, show his face at the Reapings and go back to living his solitary life. He hadn't been told he was mentoring. Maybe they were letting him off for another year. Not that he was going to complain.

A sharp knock on the front door broke him out of his reverie. Sassfrass Mercy turned his head and walked as slowly as he had been before and padded his way to the door. Who would want to see him? He was coming to the Reaping; he had hours before it would happen. It was five o'clock in the morning for goodness sake.

Opening the door slightly, he frowned slightly as the bright gold hair of the District 7 escort Cadelica Eeria. "Sassfrass, how marvellous to see you!" Babbling as normal, she looked him up and down. "I'm so excited that I get to work with you again!"

Sassfrass blanched. Wait, what? "Hi Cadelica. You're going to have to backtrack sorry. We're working together?"

The lady, in her early 40s perhaps although given what the Capitol could do, she could be much older, blanched slightly. "Why of course we are! Who else do you expect to help you look after this year's lucky tributes?"

Sassfrass forcibly shut his mouth as he gulped before speaking again. "I'm mentoring?" He stammered. "I wasn't told anything about this. Who else is mentoring?"

Cadelica looked surprised, her eyebrows rising up but the smile was still fixated on her lips. "I thought you had been informed. Oh dear, communications haven't been too good recently; we can blame District 3 for that. You and Blight are mentoring this year. Guelder is getting too old and Blight hasn't mentored for years. Plus everyone wants to see their latest District 7 Victor once more, the Capitol has missed you!"

Sighing slightly, Sassfrass forced a smile on his face and stepped aside to let Cadelica into the house. "Well then, I better pack. Please make yourself comfortable in the kitchen, there should be some food somewhere if you want and there are tea bags in the mugs cupboard, it's all labelled. I'm sorry I wasn't more prepared for you."

Cadelica laughed gently and moved into the house, removing her shawl as she smiled at the place that was around her. "Oh it's good to be back in 7. Don't worry Sassfrass, take your time. I have a good feeling about this Games, we might be gone for nearly a month. We've had quite short Games up until now, I think Scorpius will be making this the best one yet!"

Sassfrass forced the smile to widen. "Yay." He murmured as he turned and walked up the stairs to his room. The last thing that anyone wanted was for the Games to go on longer than was absolutely necessary. And a whole month with the recluse that was Blight? Oh joys.

**Banian 'Ban' Platanus (14)**

The curtains shouldn't be closed. They say that if you keep the curtains closed during the day, it will bleach the curtains and ruin them. He should open them; let the light filter into his room. But then he'd have to see whatever was going on outside in the district that was so insistent on making so much noise. And it was barely 6 o'clock in the morning and there were people outside already. Why would anyone be outside? Let alone a bunch of people. Why couldn't they just do what he wanted them to do? Why couldn't they just be quiet, go about whatever business they might have in calm silence and leave him be?

There had to be a reason, logic states so. If something is out of the ordinary, there is a reason for such an out of the ordinary event being in existence. School doesn't start for another two hours; there is no need for him to be up so early as he is. But he is and it doesn't make sense. Something in the back of his mind is getting at him, it's annoying him and what annoys him now is that he can't figure out what is annoying him.

"Banian?" A timid knock on the door forces the boy to open his eyes slowly once more. The room was partially filled with light and his hand reached out from under the covers of his thin blanket to flatten his bed head that he knew perfectly well existed.

Blinking slightly, he sat up, folding back the covers perfect before slipping out of the covers. His bare feet touched the cold floorboards, flinching slightly at the cold touch, something he really should be used to by now, and straightened his pyjama top, flattening the collar before moving over to the plain wooden door that marked the barrier between his own room and the corridor outside. Narrowing his eyes, he could see the form of his mother waiting patiently outside. She was here? That was an unusual occurrence. As their jobs kept them out of the house so often, it was unusual for her to be at home, let alone waking him up herself.

Turning the handle of the door, he opened the door just enough for her to see him in his clean pyjamas, blinking back the sleep in his eyes. "Good morning mum. What's going on outside? Why is everyone already up? It isn't time to get up for school; we have another two hours at the most until I need to be there. Is something going on?"

The woman, who barely stood a few inches taller than him, sighed slightly and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow as she regarded him. "Banian, have you forgotten that today is the Reapings?"

His heart sank and his shoulders slumped slightly. Of course. That was what he had forgotten. How could he have been stupid? How could he have forgotten that it was the day in the district that everyone hated with a passion? He hated it most of all. People. The outside. Chaos. So little order. It was a day he would most like to forget and get out of.

But society, rules, Panem dictated that he had to appear. And he would always adhere to the rules. He shook his head and bit his lip. "I had slightly forgotten about it mother. When does the Reaping begin?"

She smiled slightly and reached out towards Banian's face, the boy flinching away automatically. "What's the matter with you Ban?"

The boy shuddered slightly. "Don't call me that mother. I'm fine, of course I am. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

She shook her head, her eyes softening. "It's the Reapings Banian, I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you. The Reapings start in less than an hour, we need to leave in 20 minutes. Can you be ready by then?"

Closing his eyes, Banian breathed deeply before opening them again. "Sure. I'll be ready by then."

He had to be, there was no other way of getting out of this. He had to be pretty much dying. He rather would be dying than ago. But rules were rules. And they had to be obeyed.

**Embree 'Bree' Chimer (15)**

Reaping Day. What a joy. That was sarcastic of course. Imagine if there was a world without the Hunger Games. Wow, that would be amazing. Those children who would still be here, the ones who had died and the ones who didn't have to go through the Games and live with the horror that they remember. There would be so little fear, there would be so little hurt. We might even get to eat properly every now and then. What a life that would be!

No Bree, stick to the time that you are in now. You can't let your mind wander. Not on Reaping Day. Today is a time to remember and start to mourn. They all know, every tribute who goes into the Games from District 7 knows that they are probably going to die. It is only District 12 who has even worse luck than us. I suppose we are lucky in some way, we do have several more Victors than some of the other districts.

"Bree!" The girl turned her head as she padded her way through the streets of District 7, the dust beneath her feet created from the wood shavings that lined and marked the roads around the district.

Bree was greeted by a girl around her height with curly dark red hair that flew out behind her as she run, her green eyes shining with happiness, matched by the wide smile on her face. "Kaelen!"

The two girls walked together side by side as they walked towards the centre of the town. "How are you feeling? Nervous?" Bree asked as they joined the growing crowds heading to the main town square.

Kaelan shrugged. "I guess so, I don't know what else to feel, fear and nerves seem to be the only thing that I can feel."

The two girls fell silent as they split, Bree handing her finger dutifully to the Peacekeeper who pricked it; ugh she hated that thing, before forcing the finger on the paper. Phew, done. Kaelan had already gone and so she wound her way through the crowds of teenagers, where was the 15-year-old section? Ah, where the sign is. Of course. Idiot.

As she slipped into the line, the crowds began to fall silent as their escort stepped out. Cadelica Eeria was a laughing stock amongst the district; she was incredibly vain and just hilarious to watch. "Welcome District 7 to the annual Games! Now let's watch our wonderful video from the Capitol!"

Her enthusiasm was nauseating and Bree tuned out as the video played, they should just get on with it! Finally, after what seemed like hours, the video ended and Bree sucked in a breath as Cadelica moved towards the boy's bowl. "Boys first! Our male tribute is…" a pause hung in the air as she unfolded the paper, "Banian Platanus."

Bree breathed slightly, she didn't know the name. There was a pause, where was the boy? The Peacekeepers moved and Bree craned her neck to see them dragging a scrawny looking kid with wide eyes behind big glasses that were darting around nervously. He wasn't struggling; he was letting himself being carried. Shock was etched on his face. Well clearly he didn't have a plan on how to act if he was Reaped. Unlike her. She knew exactly what she would do. She just had to hope she would never use it.

Her eyes glanced back at Cadelica who took one look at Banian who now stood on the stage looking rather pathetic, lost, and sighed before moving to the girl's bowl. Her hand hovered above the bowl as her sharp fingernails ran around the bowl, choosing the slip with care. Was it one of her slips? Was it Kaelan? "Our female tribute is Embree Chimer!"

Her? It was her? What should she do? She couldn't compete; she wasn't good enough to win the thing! No, running wouldn't solve any problem; it would make her look weak. Moving through the crowd that parted with ease, she forced a smile on her face, a wide one. Look confident, act charming and get through this inevitable hell she would be put through. That was her plan. It would work. It would work.

**Banian 'Ban' Platanus (14)**

Not the Hunger Games. Not the Hunger Games. He had prepared for any and all eventualities. But this? The ultimate game of chaos, deception and disorder where he had absolutely no control? This was not what he wanted; this was not what he had been planning. He was going to take over his parents' business when they were ready to retire, he was going to find a beautiful wife and have a whole bunch of children. Well he had hoped.

And now? Now who knew what the future held. Was he going to live? Was he going to die? Was he going to die painfully or instantaneously? Would it be at the hands of someone he knew and trusted who had decided to betray him or would it be at the hands of someone who was eager for his blood or someone who, just like him, just wanted to get home? Would he have any allies in the arena? Would he be the only 14 year old there? The statistics, general logic and prior knowledge of previous games told him that there would be other 14-year-old children. But would they like him? Would he like them?

The room wasn't clean; he could see the specks of dust on the windowsill from where he sat at almost the other side of the room. He didn't want to do this, he just wanted to stay in the comfort of the life he was used to. Why did the Hunger Games have to exist? Why did they have to create the pain and anguish that they did? He wasn't stupid, he knew the history. Heck, every child in Panem knew the history of the country and why the Games happen. If you didn't, you were considered strange and an outcast of society. Not to mention a danger. What not knowing about the history of a country had anything to do with being a danger to anyone but the rules were the rules and they had to be observed.

The doors to the room were almost thrown off their hinges as his parents ran into the room, his mother enveloping him into a large hug. "Oh Banian, why is it my precious child? Why is it you?"

Banian could feel himself shaking slightly as he pressed further into the hug. He couldn't lose his mother, he didn't want to go! "The statistical probability wasn't very high." He murmured, statistics, that was what could keep him a little bit sane. "I could have made it another year mother but the odds are not in my favour."

She pulled away from him, looking at him through her own dark brown eyes that she had passed onto him. "You can do it Banian, we both know you can." She glanced to her husband who nodded curtly, his arms folded across his chest.

Banian snorted. "You're lying to me and yourselves just as much as I'm trying to lie to myself. I've never been one for the outdoors; I've never been the best at socialising. I won't make any allies and I certainly won't be able to handle any of the weapons. I have a one in 24 chance of making it home alive."

It was his father who pulled him into a hug. "Never underestimate yourself Banian. Yes the odds may be against you but you have a fighting spirit. You can find that in yourself to get yourself as far as you want to go. If that's all the way home at the end, then we will be waiting here with non-judgemental and open arms. If that's the first five minutes of the Games, then we respect that and we will mourn you, as we should. But don't let who you are be changed by the Capitol or by the Games."

Banian rolled his eyes. "I don't plan on being changed by anyone. I like who I am father. But I appreciate the sentiment and wise words." He forced a smile on his face. "My best shot is the best I can give and so I shall give it all. Whether it's wise is another thing altogether but that doesn't matter. I love you both."

Both of his parents pulled him into an awkward hug, awkward where he could acknowledge both of their feelings towards him but he felt rather caught in the middle. Was his absence really going to matter? Would anyone really care if he died? They would, but they would move on with their lives, they would go and do other things. No one would really care if he died. Maybe that was what he needed to do, just die and let the world move on.

**Embree 'Bree' Chimer (15)**

They were all gone. No one was left to say goodbye. Everyone had come, everyone she had wanted to say goodbye to at least. That was some comfort; they had all been there. But now she was alone, alone with her thoughts and her own future.

The room was pretty enough, certainly nicer than she had ever seen in her life. It was thick and luscious and it was gorgeous to touch. What if she could live in this kind of luxury all the time? Is this the kind of life she would be living in for the next few days? Not that it was the best kind of situation to be living in the conditions. She would sit on these kind of seats all day if she lived in this kind of luxury, she wouldn't need to work, she wouldn't even need to go to school. Well maybe she might need to but everyone would want to be her friend, she would be the most popular kid in school. What was that feeling like? Was it a nice feeling? Did it feel powerful?

The door opened once more and Bree wiped away the tears that were forming once more at the corner of her eyes, she couldn't seem weak, not for the Capitol cameras. She had to look good! When she got to the Capitol, when that silly parade was over, before the training started. Or perhaps before the Games started, she could allow herself one cry. But no more, she had to fight her way home. She couldn't look weak in front of the other tributes and they were going to judge her, they all were.

The man who stood in the doorframe had a kind smile on his face, his hands dug into dark jeans and a loose fitting collared shirt not tucked in. "It's Embree, isn't it?" He asked, his voice was gentle and kind.

She stood up, smoothing down the pleats and creases in her pale dress. "Uh, you can call me Bree. Are you my mentor?"

He stuck out a hand and Bree took it slightly uncertain. "Bree it is then. I'm Sassfrass Mercy, Victor of the 57th Hunger Games, and yes, I'll be your mentor for the duration of the Games. I will be doing my utmost best to make sure that you get home to your family and friends as soon as possible."

Bree smiled widely, he believed in her? Was he going to help her? Could he help her? He had got through the Games; he had to be good, right? He had to know something about survival. "Thank you. So what happens now?"

Sassfrass nodded to the door. "The train is waiting for us at the station, we'll be stopping at each of the districts as we are the first Reapings to take place before we go onto the Capitol. Shall we go?"

Bree nodded and glanced at the tinted windows, she wouldn't be able to see the outside of her district anyway, before she moved past Sassfrass and out of the door. "Where do we go from here?"

Sassfrass smiled and pointed in the direction of the back of the house, the two moving through the corridors and out the back of the house. Bree's eyes widened as she saw the train, the station right at the back of the Justice Building. She had seen pictures at school of the amazing transportation from District 6. But to see one up and close? It was something else.

"I know. It's incredible isn't it? Just wait until you see the inside." Sassfrass murmured and moved past the throng of Capitol reporters, all snapping their cameras and Bree blinked away the flashing lights, forcing the smile on her face. She would have to get used to it. She knew what she had to do; she had got the plan all figured out, her parents had approved.

Moving forward, she waved to the cameras, narrowing her eyes to be able to see the reporters as she neared the doors of the train. It came naturally, pretending to have an emotion that she wasn't really feeling. It was called acting. Act charming, be charming. Be the darling of the Capitol this year. Win the Games. It would work. Why wouldn't it work?

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><p><strong>What did you think? I'm going to post questions here at the bottom and you are more than welcome to answer them in your reviews...<strong>

_**What did you think of the chapter?**_

_**Who was your favourite tribute here?**_

_**Would you want there to be sponsor points available to send things to your tribute?**_

**Happy writing and see you soon!**

**PenMagic x**


	4. Secret Keeper and Secretive

**HELLO! So I am back after a crazy week, I had a thanksgiving service for my friend's dad who died yesterday and I had the wedding of my old youth leader this afternoon so it's been a bit mental. I really hope to get another chapter up before New Year, I will certainly try, but of course it is Christmas and I have two sets of 2,000 word essays to hand in before January 8th and I want to try and write a play to submit for my uni as a potential thing to do next term but it has to be written before term starts which is 5th Jan. But that doesn't take priority, the essays and then this does.**

**So after getting everyone's opinions, and thank you for those who did mention it, I have decided not to do a sponsor system for this SYOT. I will be sending presents to the tributes but as I see fit and how they fit into the Games. If, during the course of the Games, you think that an alliance or a tribute should be sent something, do let me know.**

**EXCITING NEWS! I now have a blog for this SYOT! You can find it at alltheworldsastage65. blogspot. c o m (take out the spaces). There are a few tributes who I have had to change the face claim you put down because either the name had been used before in my Mentor blog or in Wish Upon A Star, or the actor was too old/didn't have any teenage photos of them. The information that is on there will be updated throughout the Games and I hope you will keep an eye on it!**

**So we now move from the delightful woody district of 7, to the smoky and techno-whizz district of 3 and our wonderful Wiress, who I don't own, that's Suzanne Collins' property along with all the other parts of this story minus the Tributes and my own ideas, and Ramin Navarro and Kite Boggess, from Christine Mulheim.**

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><p><strong>Wiress Wood – Victor of the 31<strong>**st**** Hunger Games**

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><p>Why do they want me? Why do they want me to mentor again? I haven't managed to bring home anyone except Beetee. Beetee is a marvellous companion; I cannot deny that of course. He understands me; he can complete the sentences that I can't. So many people over the years have tried to understand me, they've tried to get through to me and help me. But no Capitol doctors, no District Three brains can help me. Not that they haven't tried, yes they have tried many a time.<p>

But I can't be cured; everyone knows it and he or she should just give up on me. Pretty much everyone else has. Tracer has, whomever remains of my family has. Elysia has, well…she's vaguely okay with it. She doesn't really say anything about it, given that she seems to be out of the Victor's Village most of the time. Aeolian just isn't around; I wouldn't blame him after the Games he went through. Beetee is the only company you get around here.

The skies over District 3 are full of smoke and fog, as they usually are. It's early in the morning, too early for my liking. But that is what they insisted on this year, the Capitol. They wanted us to have one of the earliest Reapings. Perhaps even now the children will be quaking in their small shoes, fearing and anticipating what will come. What could come. And, for two of them, what will come. Whoever it is, I hope they die or win with less pain than I had to go through.

I can feel my toes curling around the strands of the carpet that is beneath my feet, soaking up and sending out the warmth that stops me from shivering in this weather. The doorbell has just rung, I wonder who could be calling. I believe our escort this year, no one ever knows his name, is staying at the mayor's house. I won't have to deal with him. There is a small relief at least.

Clasping my hand around the cold doorknob, I turn the handle and open the door, letting the blast of cold air that has been swirling around the whole district into the house. Ugh, I would certainly take the warmer weather over this ridiculous cold any time. The figure that is on the doorstep is shivering as much as I am feeling like I should be right now. But I can't help but smile, reaching out and pulling him inside.

"What are you doing here?" My teeth chatter involuntarily as I almost slam the door behind me.

As he takes off his hat, I usher Beetee into the kitchen, which is just off the hallway, and sit him down at the table, moving over to the kettle to start brewing some kind of hot drink. "I came to see you Wiress. You know that I'm mentoring with you this year."

His voice is so soothing, it sounds exactly like it did when I first met him as a shy and very nervous 14-year-old, 25 years ago. "Yes I heard." I mutter, the short sentences I can manage. I can do that. It's the longer sentences that are the problem. I smile slightly. "I'm glad about –"

Ugh, I hate the fact that I can't do that. Why? Why me? Beetee doesn't care, all he does is sit there and smile at me serenely. He doesn't have to go through the torture of not being able to have a proper conversation with people, every single day. No Wiress, concentrate on the Games. That is what I have to focus on, getting at least one of the poor unfortunate souls we are going to be in charge of, safely home.

"Me too." Beetee murmurs and the kettle pings as I grab a mug from the cupboard, pouring the hot water into the mug and handing it to him. It's a strange habit he has, ever since his own Games. Hot water. No tea leaves, no coffee which is a very new luxury but worth every single time you drink it. Just water. "Have you packed?" He looks up as he wraps his hands around the chipped mug.

I nod. "My suitcase is –" the word 'upstairs' catches in my throat and I simply roll my eyes upward and tilt my head back slightly so he knows.

Thank goodness he does, I guess that's what 25 years of working together ends up doing to you. I just hope that this year is more like the 59th Games than all the other years.

**Ramin Navarro (18)**

Reaping Day. I understand why it happens, we all do. Of course we all do, it's the only thing that properly gets drilled into us at school. The history of Panem, the reason that we are put through this misery for up to a month every year, it is the only thing that they insist on us learning about. And yet no one has thought about bringing it down, taking a stand? I have, of course I have. But I wouldn't ever try. I'm not that kind of person. Sure I'd help out if there was someone else who suggested it. But not on my own.

It's my last Reaping this year, thank goodness. I have survived six years worth of internalised fear, the one that is experienced and often externally shown by every teenager in District Three, in the whole of Panem. Many people have made it through the six sets of ten minutes of hell; they've gone past the stage and have made it into adulthood. But there are the few who haven't. They are immortalised in our hearts and minds. It's the piece of District 3 history that is also drilled into us and, unlike the history of the Hunger Games; it is the one piece of history that every single member of this district wants to learn. Two years ago the Games got real for our class at school, too real. Tyria Becker. She got so far; she came so close to coming home. And then she didn't. The empty seat that still stands there in the classroom is proof enough. It still stands there in her memory.

"Ramin." My name, a break in the solitude that's filled the space until now, comes floating my way and I cannot help but turn from my spot on the hill that overlooks whatever view the district can provide. It isn't much, that's for certain.

The girl who comes towards me is a familiar face, her wavy dark hair flies out behind her from the wind that is battering either side of our small bodes. "Hey Kite." I greet her with the hints of a smile but my voice is raised as I struggle to be heard over the wind.

Pulling the thin coat tighter around her body, Kite sits herself down beside me, her head leaning into my shoulder. Why does she do that? Is it a comfort thing? Is it something that many girls do? I don't really know, I don't really have any friends other than Kite. She tolerates me and I tolerate her.

"We haven't got long before the Reapings." She speaks after a pause, her eyes still fixed on the horizon.

I only nod in reply; of course I know that the Reapings are happening soon. That's why I'm up earlier than normal. That's why school has been cancelled. I don't understand why people need to state the obvious. Do they think that everyone seems to forget things so easily? Things that happen that are told and drilled into your mind so many times?

The peace, the wind makes sure it certainly isn't quiet, is gentle. It's soothing and I certainly wouldn't want to be anywhere else. But Kite likes conversation; I don't mind it I guess, as long as there isn't too much of it, so I guess that I'll have to engage in it. "Are you nervous?"

Kite lifts her head up from my shoulder, thank goodness it was starting to get a little awkward, and looks at me quizzically, an eyebrow lifted in query. "I don't think so. I don't really know. I don't really get nervous until we're at the town square and whatever the guy's name is, is dipping his hand into the female Reaping bowl."

I snort; she isn't the kind really to be nervous until then. "I know what you mean." I murmur, what else do you say?

"How many slips have you got in that bowl today?" She asks and I wince slightly, I hate this topic. She should be able to do the maths.

I can't look at her; I don't want her to know. It's an embarrassing amount, and she knows it. She's the one I saved, the mystery girl who forced me to know someone other than my parents, the one who forced me into society. "28 times." I mutter, fixing my gaze on a blade of grass. She can't see the shame.

**Kite Boggess (17)**

28 times? I thought it wasn't nearly that much? I guess he's 18 now, once you've taken out tesserae you can't ask to take it away again. No one in their right mind would refuse any kind of food, even if it was in price of raising the stakes of you getting Reaped. I've always known that Ramin wasn't exactly the most well off person. He doesn't have parents like I do, he refuses to come and live with us, he insists that he can survive in the tiny shack that he and his parents used to occupy and he fought to keep.

But twenty-eight slips of paper in that bowl with his name in it? I thought that my 12 was bad enough. I had no idea; it hasn't been a topic we haven't really broached before now. What would I do if he was Reaped? What if he didn't come home from the Games? I don't even want to begin to think of life without him. We've known each other six years, almost to the day; I can't even remember properly my life before we met. But yet sometimes I feel I barely know him. Not that I can talk. People say that they barely know me. We don't all have to now everything about everyone else. People can know as much or as little about me as they want.

The sun is rising in the sky and as we look over the districts, it's getting more and more obvious the bodies of people moving towards the centre of the district, to the Hall of Rectification. It's time, we have to go. It's not as if we have much options of what to wear. Ramin has the normal black jeans and light stringed vest that he wears no matter the weather, with the thick black jacket we gave him last time we got a day off school, a present. I have the white sundress that I've worn for the last few years to the Reapings, a thin pink belt around my waist.

I stand, we have to go. "Come on Ramin." I pull him up, the boy traipsing slightly more hesitantly behind me as we run down the hill. It isn't far to the town square from where we are; it's a vantage point that is both beautiful and close.

The town square is almost packed and I know we are cutting it thin as we get our fingers pricked by the Peacekeepers who almost shove us away as soon as we are finished. How rude. "See you soon." Ramin murmurs as he moves further to the front to the 18 year old section while I slip in beside some peers that I vaguely recognise from school in the 17-year-old section.

Just in time! Our escort, who knows his name any more, totters up to the stage. "Welcome to the 65th Hunger Games District 3! Let's watch the wonderful video from the Capitol first, shall we?" Ugh, there are groans from all around me, no one enjoys watching this. The sound blares around us, I close my eyes as the speech rolls over me and the time cannot go any slower before it is all over and the escort is moving over to the girl's Reaping bowl. Please, please can it not be me. I don't want to go into the Games. "Our female tribute is…Kite Boggess."

No, no, no it can't me. The crowd parts automatically and I can feel the tears welling up. What else am I supposed to do? Where is Ramin? My feet seem to walk on automatic pilot. The stage is there. I'm climbing the steps and still I feel as if this is all some kind of dream.

The sea of people in front of me is frightening; I can't even find my parents in the sea of parents and district members. I know they are there. "And now for the boys." The escort goes to the bowl and picks out the first name they find. "Osio Limpet."

There is a cry and the boy steps out of the 12-year-old section. Oh the poor thing! He's tiny; he'll last even less than I probably will. "I volunteer!" The call comes before he can take a few more steps. No! I know that voice, I know that voice too well.

**Ramin Navarro (18)**

Who's going to come and see me? What is even the point of this little exercise, letting people say goodbye? Sure it's going to be nice for Kite, she gets to see her parents, her family and cry over the fact that she could die. But she isn't going to die. I will not let her die. That is why I volunteered, I volunteered so that she wouldn't have to die, so that she could go home to the family who care about her. Kite is the only person who cares about me in this district; if I die then no one will bother to remember me. I'll be that kid who sat at the back of class, dressed in rags and never speaking. What a way to be remembered.

She has to live. There is no option. This is why I have been training in combat; this is why I killed that man, the night she was attacked 6 years ago. I doubt she even remembers that event. I killed him so she would live. And I will do it again; I won't hesitate if anyone tries to get in her way. She can't survive in the rough areas of District 3; I hope that she has learnt that lesson at the very least. If she can't survive here, how on earth is she going to be able to survive in the arena? She needs a protector, someone to look after her. She needs me. She must come home, to the place she loves, to the people she loves and who love her. I am a nobody, the son of thieves and con artists who no longer rule the district but lie in the ground, their corpses as rotten as their hearts were.

I look up as the door opens, now there was something I wasn't expecting. A visitor, any visitor. It's the kid I volunteered for. I don't even remember his name. He's a snivelling wreck, the kid. 12 years old and his eyes are wide behind the thick-rimmed glasses. He wouldn't last two minutes in the Games. As soon as he steps inside the room, he runs and almost knocks me backwards as he wraps his thin arms around my body, tears wracking his body.

His mother hesitates in the doorway, a small smile on her face. "I'm sorry about this, he gets emotional easily. He just wanted to say thank you and good luck, we both did."

Her tone is comforting and I mentally thank her for not coming and hugging me as the child is. It's all too awkward, just sobbing and it seems like an age before he pulls away, looking up at me in awe. "Thank you mister."

Mister, now that's a title I haven't been called. Many more and far more disagreeable words for certain. But never mister. "I didn't do it for you kid." I speak as shortly as I could; I hate this kind of conversation, the overemotional kind. "The girl, she's my friend. And I'm going to make sure that she stays safe in the Games. She's going to be coming home soon."

The kid's eyes widen. "You mean you volunteered just so you could protect her?" I nod; the kid has some kind of brains. "I want to be like you when I'm older, strong enough to take of my friends."

I smile at that; I would like to see that happen. "Well, keep an eye out for your friends and make sure you know how to stand up to those nasty bullies who will come your way. Not just physically, learn how to verbally win an argument. Just don't volunteer for the Games, it won't be worth dying for."

He nods furiously and goes back to his mother, about to leave, before he turns around and looks at me, almost a foot shorter than I am. I must look like a giant to him. "Good luck mister, I hope you or your friend win."

I nod, it will be Kite, it has to be. "You too kid, good luck."

His mother nods slightly and they both leave the room; leave me to my silence and my own thoughts. Peace once more, the winds have died down and it is just me. For perhaps the last time, I close my eyes and lean back against the plush seat I find myself sitting in. Peace, it's a joy you never realise you must cherish until it's about to be ripped from you.

**Kite Boggess (17)**

I'm going into the Games with Ramin. What was he thinking? What was he thinking by volunteering for me? Is he planning on dying? Is he trying to prove something to me? He has nothing to prove, I know who he is and how amazing he is. He will always make it further than me in this kind of competition. Perhaps he could win the whole thing. But that would mean…I wouldn't make it back. How would he feel? What was he thinking? Was he thinking at all?

I don't know what to do now. I can hear my parents outside the room, they've just left. I can't believe that I might never see them again. What…I can't even imagine it. I want to see them now! I don't want to go through with this. I can't go through with this. Even if Ramin is going to be there, I don't want to have to go through with this. Let someone else go to the Games.

The door opens and I stand up, can I make a run for it? I can make it past the Peacekeepers, can't I? But I know the man who stands in the doorway, everyone does. His circular glasses are perched at the end of the nose as he looks at me with a thin-lipped smile. "I am very sorry Kite."

I frown, what is he talking about? Can I still make a break for it? "For what?"

He smiles slightly and moves further into the room, closing the door slightly. Dang it, there's my escape route gone. "For being Reaped. The statistics for any tribute who goes into the Games are never good. Don't try to escape, by the way." He adds, he's noticed my looks towards the door.

I cross my arms. "Why not? Why shouldn't I try?"

He smiles slightly wider. "Because the Peacekeepers who are in the corridor outside will not hesitate to beat you up before you've got to the Capitol and then throw you back in here. And I don't want you to make a bad impression on those who could save you." He tilts his head and looks at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The boy who volunteered, Ramin, you know him, don't you?"

There, there is the pressure point. I sit back down on the sofa, letting the feathers that are cushioning my fall, letting me down quickly. "Yeah." I murmur after a moment, not wanting to look at him. "He's my best friend."

"Well I'm Beetee, I'm going to be mentoring you in your time in the Capitol and I'll be making sure that you get all the help you can in the Games." I look up, I'm not stupid. That's all that the mentors do anymore. "Shall we go to the train? If we don't go soon, you'll be taken by force by the Peacekeepers."

I take a deep breath, at least I'll get to see Ramin soon enough. "Sure, let's just go."

He opens the door and I walk behind him, I can feel the presence of the Peacekeepers right behind me. I'll never be able to escape out of this. The Hall of Rectification isn't anywhere near the train station, not that I know where the train station is really. Out of the back door, suddenly there are so many flashing lights. What is all this? Why are there flashing lights and lots of people shouting my name? I don't know them, what do they want with me?

Beetee grabs my hand and pulls me towards the car that is there. Wow, it is amazing. I've seen them from afar, but up close? Never. The door opens and Beetee motions for me to get inside. Wow, the place is just amazing. The seats are polished and smooth and as I sit down on them, they bounce slightly. I mean I lived in a fairly well off part of the district, but I never had a luxury like this. It is amazing. He slides in beside me but as the door closes and I can feel the engine underneath me roar to life, the cameras are still flashing, the people are still so eager to get a photo of me. Why can't they just leave me alone? Why can't they just let me go? I've just been torn away from everything I know and I'm about to die. Potentially. What would I do for a few minutes of peace right now, alone with my thoughts? But I can't have that. Not anymore. It's been torn away and I may never get it back.

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><p><strong>What did you think? Another two tributes. As you read these chapters, do start thinking about who your tribute (if you have one in this story) might want to ally with. If you think you might have found someone they might ally with, do let me know in the review box. If you want to, answer the following questions:<strong>

_**What did you think of the chapter as a whole?**_

_**Who was your favourite tribute?**_

_**Would your tribute potentially want to ally with them?**_

**And a little random question for ****you guys to answer if you want:**

**_What are you hoping to get for Christmas? Do you celebrate it at all?_**

**Have a wonderful Christmas to those of you who celebrate it, happy Hannukah to my Jewish readers/followers and happy holidays if you don't celebrate either of these holidays!**

**Happy writing,**

**PenMagic x**


	5. Pushover and Tricky

**HELLO! MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR! I am very hyperactive at the moment although it is almost midnight where I am because tonight I met Aaron Tveit (Enjolras in the film of Les Mis) and nearly met Catherine Tate at the show they are doing in London, Assassins. It was such an incredible show and I am so glad I got to see it.**

**So here is the last update of 2014! I am hoping to write a chapter a week, perhaps even more frequently, although I have two essays both 2,000 words long due by 8th January so I will be focusing on those. I was planning on writing a play that had to be due by 4th but I know it won't be any good so I'll wait for next term to get that written. But once the essays are done, I can concentrate on this and completing my NaNoWriMo story.**

**So we now travel to the first of our Career Districts and to the land of Peacekeepers! Jasper Crevet is mine but thanks to Socially Awkard Wolf for Ephraim and artist-in-the-tardis for Brill! Enjoy and do let me know what you think at the bottom!**

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><p><strong>Jasper Crevet – Victor of the 52<strong>**nd**** Hunger Games**

Bloody stupid Games. Stupid Capitolites wanting me to come and be the mentor this year. I thought I'd got out of it, I thought I might have been able to get away with another year now that everyone was so fixated on Brutus and Enobaria. They've been mentoring for the last few years; the rest of us has managed to get away with a few years of rest. Not anymore. I couldn't stay away for much longer, could I? I still make those bloody trips to the Capitol when I'm needed, when my services are required. They've got 64 Victors to choose from, 57 are available, ripe and ready for the picking. And they have to choose the 28 year old who should be all but forgotten given that there has been 12 Victors since I came home.

But no, the thick creamy piece of paper, sealed with the red ink that has been broken within the last few hours, spelled my doom. The cameras, the story, the Victors. Very few of us want to relive the weeks of hell that we went through. But the Capitol thinks that it is a marvellous idea to replay everything that happened, to bring back the horrors and the experiences we went through, that we certainly don't need to be reminded of.

It's hot in District 2; it is a lot of the year. The stone steps that slope outside my house down to the main circle of houses that surround the fountain in the middle of the Victor's Village, are warming up in the morning's son and I can hear a few of my fellow Victors moving inside their own houses.

"Jasper!" Ugh, I hate the voice that calls my name and I lift up my head, laying a hand on my suitcase instinctively as the positively radiant figure of Spinel Yaxer comes towards me. He frowns slightly as he sees the fading brown suitcase beside me. "Where are you going?"

I sigh; he really can be clueless at times, can't he? "Happy Reaping Day Spinel." Ah, now he's got it with the sarcasm in my voice. "I got the note from the Capitol last night."

Spinel bites his lip. As full of himself as he is and however much he loves the Capitol, he understands that there are those among us who doesn't share his sentiment. "I wish I was going."

I open my arms. "Please be my guest and take my place."

He laughs slightly. "You know the rules as I do Jas. Who have you got beside you? Brutus or Larimar?"

I wish it was Brutus, or even Spinel, Larimar I certainly wouldn't wish anyone to go to the Capitol with her, coming with me. "Neither, it's Enobaria."

We both shudder, she may be the youngest of our Victors but she's already made an impact and isn't the most comfortable person to be around. "Bad luck my friend. Perhaps this year the Games won't last as long as some of the others have and you'll be back before you know it."

"What's the likelihood of that?" I spit and stand up. I better go and get this over and done with then. "Have a nice few weeks without me Spinel. Have you heard from Zircon or Larimar who has been chosen this year?"

Spinel frowned slightly as he tried to remember. "An eighteen and a sixteen year old, Leon Valdes and Philomena Grierson if I overheard what they were saying the other day. Shouldn't be too hard to work them, supposedly rather docile in reality but the hardened trainees that they should be. They'll get far if they're anything like the material from District 2 should be."

I shrug, oh joys. As long as they appear docile and don't try to make fools of themselves. "Thanks Spinel, whether they will Volunteer is another question altogether of course." I stand up, picking up my suitcase that should last me the few weeks, and look around at the village that has become our own little community, so different and so estranged from the rest of the district. "I better get going, the Reaping starts in the next hour."

Spinel blanches slightly. "We all have to be there, I better go and change." I raise an eyebrow at the outfit he is wearing, a running outfit, someone wants to keep fit. "Look a little more presentable."

I force a smile on my face as I tuck my door key into my blazer pocket and go down the last steps from my house. "Yes, perhaps you should." Time to face the music, yet again.

**Brilliant 'Brill' Austin (12)**

Reaping Day. This is it, this is the first year I could go into the Games. Of course I'm not going to, even if someone gets Reaped, even someone of my age, there will be a Volunteer. There is always a Volunteer, no matter how old or young they might be. I won't have to go into the Games; I certainly don't have any plans to. Sure if it came down to it, maybe I could do it. I don't really know, I've never actually had to kill anyone but it can't be too hard can it?

The mines that we've found around the outer skirts of the district are pretty much disused now. The diamonds from the mines have all been found. What do you do with a mine that isn't used anymore? Use it for Peacekeeper practise, apparently. That's what I can see from behind the rock that is outside the entrance to the mine. It's barely an entrance though, a gap in the criss-crossed wood that has the remains of the metal tracks still running through. But standing at the entrance, is a young boy, he can't be more than 17 or 18. He has messy dark hair like Talli and he hasn't got his helmet on, his eyes are darting around rather nervously.

"What do we do?" My friend Talli, who is crouched down on my left, hisses as she too sees the trainee Peacekeeper looking thoroughly bored.

Oh that's a good idea, that's a great idea! I know it! "One of us go and distract him while the other two slip away while he isn't looking and is distracted into the mines. Easy."

Emmaline, my other friend on my other side with blonde hair, shakes her head. "But what if the Peacekeepers are blowing something up down there? Or they're doing target practise?"

Ridiculous, they're blowing things out of proportion. "They wouldn't have posted only one kid on the front of the mine if there is something so dangerous going on down there." I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and grin. "I've got this, you two run in as soon as he's looking the other way. He can't shoot us; he isn't old enough to have a gun yet. The worst he can do is Taser us."

Talli shudders. "Have you seen what those Tasers do though? I heard June Maryn got hit with one the other day, she hasn't been in class since."

I shrug. "He won't get you two, he'll get me. And at least it'll get me out of the Reapings in an hour."

Emmaline blanches. "It's in an hour?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Come on, a quick peek? We haven't explored this one properly and I hear it might be haunted. See you in there!"

Before they can complain, I scramble up the rock and jump off the top, letting my dark blue dress billow out as I run over to the guy, trying to peer into the darkness. "What are you doing here?" The Peacekeeper frowns down at me.

I look up at him, who is going to hurt a 12 year old? "I just want to have a look inside the mine. What are you doing here?"

The man snorts. "Stopping kids like you from getting in. I've been told to make sure no one comes in, important Peacekeeper training happening down there. You could die if you go in."

I peer further in and he steps in front of the entrance, no! That wasn't supposed to happen. "So if it's Peacekeeper training, why aren't you down there?"

He puffs his chest out and smirks slightly. "Because I'm Volunteering today for the Games."

I frown slightly; he's going to be in the Games? He is young enough? "So why are you still here?"

He glares at me. "Orders are orders, I do as I am told." He kneels down and looks at me in the eyes; oh please can he be more patronising. "Now get off with you to the Reaping, looks like it must be your first year." His eyes glint. "And you don't want to know what Peacekeepers do to those who are eligible for the Reapings who are late."

I don't know what it is but something about what he says makes me shudder. How mean! I don't like him, he's too nasty. "Well fine then, I hope you die in the Games." I can't help but retort as I flounce away. Tomorrow we will get it. Tomorrow.

**Ephraim Alister (18)**

Kids, I normally like them, I'm not normally as horrible as I was just then to that kid. But it's today, something about today that's put me on edge, that's getting my nerves up. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm going to Volunteer. I deserve to be a little scared. But I have to do it, I have to go and prove to them all that I'm not the scared kid that they all think that I am.

I don't understand why they put me on guard; I'm one of their best! I could show the others a few things. I wish I didn't have to do this, Peacekeeper training. But if you don't, or you don't train for the Games, you are nothing in this district. So I signed up for both. Better than nothing and I'm still nothing if the remarks that pass me by are anything to go on. The clanking behind me gets louder and louder before it grinds to a halt as the lift arrives at daylight.

Turning smartly on my heels, I pick up my helmet and tuck it under my arm as I watch my fellow trainees file past me. Of course they will be, no one gets left behind in 2. The last person out is our trainer, Parks. He nods to me as he stops in front of me. "Any trouble out here Alister?"

I shake my head. "A couple of kids messing around but I sent them on their way and fast sir."

"Good, fall in Alister, time to get to the Reapings."

"Yes sir."

Damn it, I was hoping to change into something a little less formal than what we trainee Peacekeepers wear to formal events. I quickly fall into line and Parks moves away silently. The march to the training centre isn't too far away from the mine and we have exactly three minutes to get ready for the Reaping. In my locker is the standard uniform, the stark white button up shirt with a dark green tie with black dress pants and matching shoes with the Peacekeeper pin on my lapel. Everyone will know exactly who we are by the pin only.

I'm one of the first in line and once everyone has arrived, we march out of the centre and into the town, making the 30 minute journey to the town square that we've trodden too many times. The square is busy but the people part for us. I can hear whispers of the two chosen tributes by the centre, but I have to beat the boy, whoever he is, I have to get there.

The pinprick on the finger is nothing and there is a breath of relief as we disperse to our sections. We still represent the Peacekeeper Academy but at least we aren't confined to the standards and expectations, I hate them. I neither hear nor care what they have to say, I've heard it all before.

I don't even hear the name of the boy tribute. "I VOLUNTEER!" I yell, as do many of the boys around me. My height gives me the distinct advantage I need and I'm pretty sure I elbow the guy who was supposed to Volunteer in the face as I jump up onto the stage and punch the other guy who is there in the face, he totters off the stage before I take the microphone. The first victory is mine. "I'm Ephraim Alister and I will be your Victor."

The cheers rise up from the crowd and while the other 18 year olds look at me with a mixture of jealousy, hatred and numbness, I cannot help but smile. I did it, I will show them all. I barely hear the name called out as I beam out at the crowd. "Brilliant Austin."

Brilliant, what kind of a name is that? Wait, I recognise the kid that walks down the aisle, it's the redhead from earlier, emerging from the 12 year old section. She walks shakily down the aisle, where is that stupid Volunteer? A 12 year old from 2 shouldn't go into the Games, this is crazy! But no, no one steps forward, and she stands on the stage alone.

"Well," the escort forces a smile on his face although he isn't pleased with Brilliant, "here are your tributes: Ephraim Alister and Brilliant Austin!"

**Brilliant 'Brill' Austin (12)**

Him. And me. Of all the people having to go into the Games, it has to be that nasty Peacekeeper man and me. I don't understand, District 2 always has a female Volunteer. Why didn't they this year? Were they so intimidated by him? Ephraim or whatever he was called, a silly name if you ask me. Brilliant is far more fabulous and nice than Ephraim which sounds like an Outer District name. I don't want to go into the Games, I don't want to have to go and kill people. They're all going to be older than me, bigger than me, more experienced at anything and everything in comparison to me.

The room in the Hall of Peace I've been shoved into is nice enough; there are so many colours and the sofa feels really nice. But I don't want to be here; I don't want to be waiting for my impeding death. I would rather be anywhere else than here right now. I don't know if Dad will come, was he even at the Reapings? I bet he wasn't, he never remembers these kind of things. Will Talli and Emmaline come? Will anyone come? Do they care?

"Brill!" There, they did come. I look up from the sofa as the door bursts open to see Talli and Emmaline rush into the room. They are crying, I want to cry, I really do but there are no tears for me to cry.

Talli pulls me into a hug as Emmaline looks rather helplessly on. "What are we going to do without you?"

I smile, trying to lighten the mood. I can do that, I can do that. "You'll have to tell me all about that mine we tried to find this morning, when I get back."

Talli pulls away as Emmaline hugs me. "You mean you're going to come back? But no 12 year old has ever won the Games."

I shrug, they can't get me down, I have to stay positive. "There is always a first time for everything, right? Maybe the guy forgot about me, maybe he can protect me. Maybe he won't join the alliance our tributes normally do."

Emmaline bites her lip. "Why don't you join them?"

I laugh, she is sweet but she has the silliest ideas. "Do you think they'd ever accept me? No, I'll find my own way."

"Time." The Peacekeeper at the door storms in.

"Good luck Brill, we know you can do it!" Their adulations and cheers ring in my ears as they leave, none the too eagerly. But we all know about Peacekeepers, half of our friends are trained to be them, those who can afford to go to the centre. And none of us fancy properly crossing them when they have their guns. The consequences are all too obvious.

The door opens again a few minutes later. Who would want to see me? I know now my father won't come. "Brill?"

No way. "Mum?" I can barely believe my eyes but my mother, who I haven't seen since she moved out to live with another man, she was the reason my father is the way he is, stands in the doorway.

She pauses for a moment before coming in and crushing me in a hug, is she trying to kill me before I go to the Games? "I've missed you so much." She murmurs.

I don't understand, she walks out two years ago and then decides to come back in. "What are you doing here?" I mumble, pulling away slightly.

She blinks. "I came to see you. I've heard about your father and I knew he wouldn't come and see you. So I thought you deserved someone to come and say good luck."

I snort. "You know Mum, I do have friends. They came to see me." I pull away and look at her. How do you act around a woman you don't really know? Around a woman you haven't seen for two years because she cheated on your dad? "Why didn't you come before?" She looks at me blankly. "Why didn't you come and see me at school? Or at the house? I might have liked to see you again."

She frowns. "I got you a token." She opens her hand to reveal the sapphire that sits on my desk at home. "I went by your house after I heard your name called. That's why I was late."

Well, that's something. Perhaps if she had come earlier, we might have made it better. But it's too late.

**Ephraim Alister (18)**

Of course they didn't approve of me going into the Games, why would they approve of their son risking his life because doing Peacekeeper training and entering the training academy wasn't risky as it was. Can I never please my parents enough? Mother of course was more anxious than furious, she wanted me to enter the Games, I think it must have been those dreams she had as a girl for herself entering the Games. Father's always teased me about not being good enough for the Games, for being anything more than a guard at some awful mine. Guess at least he got one of his dreams fulfilled today.

And now they've gone, I don't really know what to do. I've done what I set out to do, be successful in Volunteering for the Games. Now I have to go through with it. I could die. I could get killed by the stupid kid who got Reaped, the same kid I had to encounter today. I guess she didn't see the whole thing coming. What do I say to her when I see her again? I can't exactly apologise, that would make me seem weak. Everyone has said I was weak, that's what they've always said. That's why I've entered these Games, to prove myself! To show them that I am so much more than some kid who's been pushed into the Games because of what his parents wanted him to od. No, I am going to make it on my own without any of their help! I can do it by myself!

The door opens and I look up to see a very familiar face, but not perhaps the one I would have most liked to see. Jasper Crevet, a favourite with the Capitol but not with the district. As long as he doesn't moan all the time, you hear the rumours of course about people that you've never met, then perhaps we might be able to get on well enough. He just sort of stands there, looking at me. What else do I do except look back at him.

"Ephraim Alister, 18 years old." I eventually speak, offering a hand. Might as well start cordial; get the awkward beginnings out of the way.

He doesn't take it, his arms folded across his chest, but instead turns around and walks away. What am I supposed to do? Run for it? Go with him? Stay here? Is he my mentor or not? "You know the Peacekeepers will force you onto the train if you decide that Volunteering wasn't the best idea you've ever had kid."

Right, go with him. His voice isn't kind at all, but it isn't harsh either, just very neutral. I quickly walk out of the door and down the corridor, I know the train station is at the back of the Hall of Peace and so as I walk through the corridors, it's pretty standard for an upper District 2 house, I've seen stuff like it before, I fall in step quickly with Jasper who doesn't acknowledge my presence but walks a little faster, opening the door at the back of the Hall and out into the warm air. The cameras already click around me, stupid Capitolites wanting the latest news on their latest meat that they are going to feed off. How sickening.

The inside of the train is as slick and sleek as the outside suggests. Everything seems to shine and I'm drawn by the fact that there are so many carriages on one train. "Is this train holding all the tributes?" I ask as Jasper turns down a corridor, wooden doors on the left and the windows on the right, showing the cameras still clicking away.

"Yes but you won't be able to see them until the parade." Jasper's voice is crisp and without any emotion. What a joy, I get the feeling that this one might be a little harder than even Parks to get on with. At least he seemed to show some feeling whereas this one is hell bent on hating me. Is it my problem or is it his? Perhaps Brilliant, or whatever her name is, has a better mentor.

The door at the end of the corridor slides open and we are faced with a large room, comfortable sofas and a table filled with incredible foods. Brilliant is curled up on the sofa, shaking slightly and, at the table; my heart sinks as I see the familiar fanged face of Enobaria. We're screwed.

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><p><strong>So...what did you think? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Don't forget if you want to know what our wonderful tributes look like, the link to the blog is in one of the past chapters. If you want to, you can answer the questions below:<strong>

_**What did you think of the chapter as a whole?**_

_**Which tribute did you prefer?**_

_**What was your favourite play/musical that you have seen, if you are into that kind of thing?**_

**Happy writing and have a fantastic New Year everyone!**

**PenMagic x**


	6. Impressionist and Story-Teller

**HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm sorry this is a couple of days late but I did warn you guys, I had two essays due this week for the first week back. But now that is all over and I can get onto writing this! I'm aiming to write and publish a chapter every six days, although because I was two days late here, I will hopefully post by Tuesday. But I can't promise anything, I will try to do my best.**

**Well we leave the Career district and go down to the other end of the numerical order to the District of Thresh and Rue, of orchards and fruit. Thanks a lot to Blue Eyes Arch Angel for Breeze and Vulkodlak for Husk!**

**Let me know what you think in the review box and enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Seeder Ambrose – Victor of the 39<strong>**th**** Hunger Games**

The letter is still in my hand, the crisp white, thick paper that spells doom for anyone who received it in the Victor Village. The official letter of demand. Not a request, not an invitation, it is certainly something you cannot refuse. To mentor, to the Capitol and to President Snow, is an honour. To the higher districts, perhaps it is an honour, go back and relive everything that gave them the fame and glory they have. But not to us. And the two names that are written at the bottom are the two that have been staring at me in the face for the last few hours.

Seeder Ambrose.

Endive Testop.

Endive. Admittedly a strange and unusual choice for a mentor, given that he hates anyone and anything that moves past him. Chaff would have made a better companion, he and I know each other, we work well, we know how to divide up the tributes and deal with them together and on our own. I've never worked with Endive, that's always been down to Clementine. I wonder why they've changed it up this year. Why do I get the feeling that I'll be doing a lot of the work this year with Endive as unstable as he is normally?

I can see people still working in the fields behind the Victor Village. Why should they still be working? The Reaping starts in just under an hour and yet they haven't even been given the time to get ready. Parents aren't being able to say goodbye to their children, children can't be comforted by their parents because where are they? At work. The Capitol pushes them too hard.

The Victor Village seems so quiet; often some of Chaff's nephews or nieces are around. Not anymore, no one is outside today except for Endive. I can see him already from the bay window in the front room, wandering around aimlessly, his suitcase lying at the gates. He is ready to leave but he doesn't want to. Believe me I know the feeling. I suppose we better just get this over and done with, let the two poor children suffer as little as possible and go as quickly as they can. Unless we have hope this year. It's unlikely, we have one of the worst District records aside from 12, but we must give them hope.

Picking up my small suitcase, I never need very much when I go to the Capitol and I can get my own clothes there if I really want to, I open the door and step out onto the porch. The air in 11 is very warm, it's humid and I can feel the thin cotton shirt I'm wearing starting to stick to my skin. Thank goodness it isn't the longest walk to the Hall of Righteousness from the village, we are luckier than most.

"Endive." I call gently across the square and the boy turns at the sound, waving half-heartedly, the grim line of nonchalance etched on his face.

"I heard you were my partner." Thank goodness his voice isn't bitter, its neutral and almost bored. "Guess the Capitol wanted a change of heart this year."

I shrug, as long as he isn't spurting hate and disgust at every turn, perhaps this year can be bearable. "Perhaps they did." I simply reply. "Are you ready to go to the Reapings?"

He shrugs and his eyes glaze over slightly, perhaps he too is remembering his own Reapings, not ten years ago where he stood, a proud and hulking 18 year old who won by convincing everyone he was terrifying. Looks can be deceiving, and when you're mentoring a terrified 6ft 4 giant or a strong-willed and cocky 12 year old, the truth or hiding is can mean the difference between sponsors and no sponsors, between life and death.

Taking a deep breath, I see his eyes refocus again as he shakes himself slightly. "Yeah, let's go." We walk through the gates of the Victor Village, Clementine and Chaff don't have to be there this year, only we do, the rule in 11 is that only those who are mentoring the tributes are required to attend the reaping. The walk to the centre of town is fairly short but it could not be longer as the silence between us hangs in the air like a stench that is not going away. And that is how it will be for the next few weeks. I can't wait.

**Breeze Thicket (14)**

"Mum I want to help!" I can hear the whine in my voice but I don't care! I do want to help; I know how busy my parents always are.

My mother's head turns to me as her body remains still in the chair she's in, a small smile on her face. "Now you know why I can't let you do that Breeze."

I roll my eyes, it was one time. I didn't mean to break the plates, I was just trying to wash them up and I slipped on the water! It happens! "Aw come on Mum, you can't do the chores, I can."

She shakes her head slightly. "I don't want to hurt yourself more than you seem to do on a daily basis Breeze. Your father can manage it fine on his own." Ugh, she might be a little right. "Why don't you go and feed Nip and Nick? We have to leave for the Reapings in a few minutes, so you my boy need to get dressed and feed them just in case…"

She trails off and I know what she's talking about, we don't mention it though, we never do. The fact that I could get Reaped. I know that my parents will look after Nip and Nick for me if the worst does happen. But I haven't fed them yet today and I need to do it soon! "Sure, good idea. I'll let you know when I'm off. You'll be there, won't you?"

She nods slightly. "Sure, you know your father and I will always be there to make sure you're safe."

Okay, they are going to be there. That's okay. I turn and run upstairs to my room, I can hear the squeaking from the cardboard box that I've got my boys in. Opening my thin cupboard door, oops that nearly got me in the face; I rummage around at the bottom until I find the little box that I keep well away from my boys, the food. I can feel it's getting empty, I need to find some more bits of food, see if they'll give me anything at the market tomorrow, but this will do for the next few days.

In the corner of my room, the medium size box sits waiting, the sound of scratching and whining inside. Opening the tip of the box, I can see their grey fur shuffling as they run around, their pink noses snuffling as they start to smell the food that is coming for them. They make me feel safe, they are the ones who understand me and listen if I ever want to talk. Not that they can reply of course, but they are the best and the only company I've got.

"Hey you two." I smile slightly as the light floods the box and the squeaks get louder, more excited as they look up to see me. "You want some food? Are you two hungry? Guess who has food they want to give you?"

I know they won't answer, no one ever does if I talk to them. That isn't an animal thing; it's a world thing. Maybe this year, maybe this year someone will want to speak to the strange clumsy boy who looks odd as usual. Glancing out the window of my room, I can see people moving about the streets. They will all be starting to make their way to the Reaping, as must I. It's quite a walk from here to the Hall of Righteousness where the Reapings take place, as they do every year, and I can't be late. You hear the horrible stories of what the Peacekeepers do to those who are late for the Reapings. I don't want my mother and father to get into trouble, heck I don't want to get into more trouble than I normally get into every day.

Whoa! No! Stupid loose nail on my floorboard, tripping me up! Wait, where is all the food going? It can't slip between the cracks in the floorboards, it's for Nip and Nick! I scrabble to pick up as many of the pieces as I can, put them back into the smaller box that's on its side on the floor, but I can feel that definitely some have been lost. Stupid clumsiness, I don't want to be clumsy. Trust me I try not to be as clumsy as I am but it just tends to happen. Right, now to feed the rats, each task has its own merit.

**Husk Whetstone (18)**

Reaping Day. Where two people get the limelight for all the wrong reasons and I get ignored. Not that I want to be faced with the prospect of having to go into the Games, only this year and then I will be free of it forever. But it isn't fair that every year, someone gets the limelight. Those Victors get the limelight every year, they get to be famous. For what? Surviving? Pathetic.

The streets of District 11 are very busy, people are swarming towards the Hall of Righteousness, the Reapings are going to begin in a few minutes so I should be heading there. They can wait for me; I live close enough to not have to spend hours travelling to the centre of town. I am the only person who needs to be at the Reaping, everyone else is there to see me. Well, I like to think that at least. Why wouldn't people look at me?

"Husk, we need to leave soon." My mother's voice floats up the stairs to my room. "If we don't leave, we will be late."

I glance at the mirror again, making sure that I look good. I need to, just in case, to make an impression. Not that I care for fashion. The tan shorts with the white undershirt looks good but it needs something else. It needs a little more colour, the silver sandals aren't enough. Looking at my wardrobe, I spot the pink button up shirt that Mum bought me last week, ah perfect! Grabbing it off the hanger, I slip it on over the white shirt and look back in the mirror. That is better, much better.

Pulling my hair up into a ponytail, I dash downstairs to where my mother is waiting, looking as dolled up as she always does. "Husk, I do not want my reputation ruined by my teenage daughter's decision to make me late to the Reapings." She tuts, ugh she always overreacts to absolutely everything. "Now let's go."

She's just jealous of the fact that I get so much attention from my friends. I walk out of the house and into the bright sunshine. It is a short walk to the town square and I don't even care that my mother has fallen behind. She can do what she wants. Walking up to the Peacekeepers, I present my finger and they take my blood. Easy as anything. I can see people staring at me as I walk past towards my own age section; they all want to look at me.

Our escort walks up onto the stage and I can hear the screeching noise from the microphone before it has even come. "Welcome all to the 65th Hunger Games. First, let us watch the marvellous video provided for us by our beloved Capitol." Oh great, not this awful thing again. No one around me even bothers to pay attention as the video drones on about things that happened years ago! We already know this! It feels like years before the stupid video finishes. Our escort totters over to the girls' Reaping bowl and I can see the thousands of pieces of paper in there, only seven of which have my name on it. There's no way she's got mine. "Our lucky female tribute is Husk Whetstone!"

Me? Okay Husk, just act calm, don't let them think that you might be scared. Of course you're not scared! I force a smile onto my face as the looks of relief from the girls around me are clear as day. They couldn't at least look pitiful. This is my time to shine. I keep the smile on my face as I run up the steps. "Hi." I try to hide the shakiness out of my voice. No, I need to be calm.

She smiles at me broadly. "Someone looks happy to be here." It's not common over here but she totters over to the boys' Reaping bowl and plucks out the name. Who is my partner? "Our male tribute is Breeze Thickett."

Nope, don't know the name but the boy who almost trips over his own feet as he comes out from the 14 year old section is almost pitiful. He stumbles forward, walking to the steps unaided but I can see the terror in his eyes. Who wouldn't be scared of the Games? Heck, I certainly am. But I can't let it show, I want a chance at this.

**Breeze Thicket (14)**

I can't do this; I can't go into the Games! What will happen to me? Heck, I'll probably trip over my own feet and end up dead before the interviews happen. What will happen to Nip and Nick? Mum and Dad can't take care of them forever. Who will go and get them food? Who will make sure that they get their exercise daily?

I'm not going to come home to them, am I? I'll never make it home at this rate. I know what I can and can't do. I can be socially awkward and give strange first impression to people. I can't make friends, speak to people properly and walk straight, let alone run, without falling over at least once. Why, of all of those pieces of paper in the bowl did they have choose me? I don't know how I'm going to get through, Husk my partner looks friendly enough but she seems overbearing and have you seen how tall she is? I don't know if I can do this, I don't know if I can do any of this.

The door to the room I'm in opens and my father comes in, wheeling my mother. "Oh my baby, my precious Breeze!" She cries and I want to just hold her and hug her forever. Why must life be so cruel and stop that? She opens her arms. "Come here my sweetheart."

I run, I don't care if I crush her; I want to hug her and stay like that forever. I can smell her musky scent on her clothes as she wraps her thin arms around me. It is the best hug I have ever had from her. "I don't want to go mum." I don't know if she can hear me, my words are muffled in her clothes.

She pulls away slightly, her eyes wet with tears. I want to cry, why am I not crying? Why can't I seem to cry? I want to cry so much, I want to show that I care that I'm going into the Games, that I might not ever see my parents again. "I don't want you to go either my precious. But it's what the Capitol says and if we don't, we all die. You have to go and do your best Breeze because that is what you can do."

"But what if my best isn't good enough." I murmur and hug my dad who has come from behind the chair.

He shakes his head. "Never think that Breeze. You can do the best that you can do and in the end, if your best isn't good enough for those other tributes, then that is their problem."

His hair is just like mine, completely crazy and my mother leans over and brushes a stray strand out of my face. I hope that doesn't hinder me in the Games as well, I've got enough against me as it is. "What about Nip and Nick? You will look after them, won't you? You promise to look after them?"

My parents glance at each other, smiles on their faces. I know they will, I just need to hear it. I need to know that they will look after the only friends that I have. "Of course we will." Mum lifts a bony hand and strokes my face. I like it when she does that, it makes me feel safe.

My father nods in agreement. "They will be fed and everything that you always ask us to do Breeze. They will be here when you get back. They'll be here when you get back."

My mother reaches her hand into her dress pocket and brings out something in her hands. What is it? "We couldn't find anything better, but I want you to have this. As your token."

Opening her hands, I see a small lavender stalk. Her favourite. My favourite. I'll always be able to smell the scent that is so special for the flower and know she is there. "Thank you." I whisper. What else do you say? "I promise to keep it as safe as I can."

The door opens and the Peacekeeper who put me in here comes in. "Time's up."

NO! They can't go! "Please, don't go."

My father crushes me in a hug again. "Be brave, for all of us." He murmurs and lets go as the Peacekeepers come towards him. "We love you Breeze, remember that."

I'll remember that. I'll never forget it.

**Husk Whetstone (18)**

I don't think I've said 'will miss you' and 'goodbye' so many times. I don't know if I will see any of them again, I certainly hope so. Not that, and I will admit it freely, I remember very many of the friends who came to see me. I have too many to count, it's just a fact. They will never know. I will never have to tell them so they will never know. That is the way it works.

I can hear the voices of my friends outside of the room and I sit back in the chair in the room. It's a gorgeous place, nothing on my house of course, my house was the best. What do I do now? Do I go outside? Do I need to wait for whoever is going to mentor me this year? No one has told me what to do, that isn't helpful at all. What do you expect me to do?

I sit back in the chair and wait for anyone to come. The window in the room looks out towards the train station, I can see the car that I think we must be travelling in, just waiting there. It's pretty, I've never travelled in one before but you hear things about them.

The door opens and I smile as I see who my mentor is. They say that she, of all four of the Victors we have, is the nicest one. Seeder Ambrose, she won nearly thirty years ago but I can't remember the exact details of her Games. "Husk, it's lovely to meet you." Her smile is pretty; she has an air of confidence but gentleness as well. I really hope that we get on but if she tries to smother me, I will make sure that she and I will never get on.

"Nice to meet you too." I plaster the smile on my face. "Seeder, isn't it? What do we do now?"

She nods. "We're going to get out of here and go down to the car that will take us to the train station. From there, we'll head towards the Capitol."

Alright, lets go then. She turns and walks out the room and I follow quickly. We're near the back of the building so I can see the car and it's really nice, a sleek black colour. The seats are plush and Seeder and I are the only ones in the class as we drive through the streets, cameras clicking away. Is this the life of someone who is famous? What a life! How nice it must be to be recognised and have your name called to you over and over again.

The train station is damp and dirty but the train is wonderful. 13 carriages snake down the platform and our one is the penultimate carriage. The doors slide back and the inside is even more beautiful than the outside. Seeder walks down the corridor, all kinds of wood line the corridors and the doors have wonderful carving on them.

"So your room is this one." She points to first door on the left, which has 11F on it. "I'll let you see it in a few minutes when we've seen met with Endive and Breeze. Breeze has the room next to yours and we are just down the corridor. You're not allowed in any other part of the train except this carriage which is designated for this district."

"What's in the other carriages?" I ask, why can't we just go and roam the whole train? Isn't this just for us?

"Because all the other tributes are also on this train. 13 carriages, one for Peacekeepers and 12 for the districts. We have to go and collect all of the other tributes before we go to the Capitol. Now come on, let me introduce you to Breeze and Endive."

The last room we enter is wide and spacious, food is piled on the table, so much that I don't even recognise half of it. And sat on the sofa, facing something that looks like the projectors we have back at home, I don't know exactly what it is, but it's more solid than the projectors, is the boy I saw onstage who fainted and a man in his late 20s with a scowl on his face. The boy looks pale; I hope he's okay. But if I'm coming home, he's got to die. Facts are facts.

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><p><strong>So another intriguing set of tributes. I hope that you liked these two and a little taste of Seeder. If you want to, please do review and you can answer the questions below:<strong>

_**What did you think of the chapter overall?**_

_**Which tribute did you prefer? Why?**_

_**Could you see them as a potential ally for your tribute if you have one?**_

**I hope everyone had an awesome Christmas and New Year!**

**Happy writing,**

**PenMagic x**


	7. Dramatic and Cordial

**Hey! So I guess not many of you guys got the notification about the last chapter or you just didn't like it enough to be able to review. I hope that you enjoy this one more and that you will let me know what you think!**

**We move up in the districts to 8 to the land of Naedle and Smithe brought to us by the wonderful TheRainIsOnFire and Notthegovernment! Rinzu is a boy of my own but the other mentor may be that much more recognisable!**

**Enjoy the chapter and do let me know what you thinking!**

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><p><strong>Rinzu Cherry – Victor of the 47<strong>**th**** Hunger Games**

The paper sits on the table and I have no interest in looking at it again. I know exactly what it says, why would I want to read over words that have already been read. I already know the details; I do not need to waste my time. It is very clear at simple. I am to be a part of the mentoring team for this year's Hunger Games alongside Woof.

It was no secret that Cecelia and Zibeline are relieved to be free from this laborious exercise we are put through each year. I don't want to remember what happened in the Games I was put through, I can remember the people I was in that arena with as if I met them yesterday. Why, every couple of years, must I be put through the memories of what happened?

It's raining here in 8, what a surprise. It rarely stops raining here, whether that's a light drizzle or a heavy shower, or snow. That sometimes gets us every now and then, a nice change up. It's a pleasant change if we get sunshine. The grey factories that cover the districts are only contrasted by the houses in the Victor Village. What a joke, the Capitol wanted to play on us. Each of the houses is painted with a different, equally bright colour. The one that the Capitol assigned to me is lime green. Who wants a house that is lime green, it's like the whole Village is one of the crazy patchwork quilts that have recently come into fashion in the Capitol and they're all demanding right now.

Thank goodness the inside isn't the same as the outside. I would have rather lived in a house in the district like the rest of the folks around here, than live in a house where everything was lime green. The inside of each house is the same, plain walls and furniture of choice.

Crossing the square over to the first house that was ever occupied in this Victor Village, I knock on the door loudly. "Woof?" I call; the guy needs to get a hearing aid and fast. "Woof are you in there?"

The door creaks open and the face of one of the oldest people in the district, one of the few people who remembers before the whole Hunger Games started. "Rinzu? What do you want?"

His voice is as cranky as I remember and he regards me with wary eyes. I force a smile on my face, that's the conventional code to get people to like you and have people to trust you. "Woof, did you not get the letter that was sent to you?"

He frowns and tilts his head slightly. "Letter? What letter?"

Of course he didn't get it, he rarely pays attention to very much. "The letter telling you that we're mentoring together this year?" Patience is a virtue, virtue is a grace, try not to get annoyed when an old man has no idea what's going on. It's a stupid choice asking him to mentor, it means natural that I will end up doing all the work. What a joy.

His eyes widen and he sighs. "I didn't get that. When is the Reaping?"

I check the watch I bought on my last trip to the Capitol and sigh internally; I really have my work cut out for me this year. "In about 35 minutes Woof, you need to be packed and there in time for the Treaty of Treason. Do you need me to help you pack and get you over there?"

Woof runs a hand through his stark white hair before shaking his head. "Don't worry yourself kid, I always have a suitcase half packed somewhere. You go ahead, I'll see you there."

I frown, Woof isn't the most reliable person for being able to get anywhere without hurting himself. "Are you sure?"

He frowns and snorts. "Go kid, make sure that at least one of us is there on time. If you're so worried, send Zee or Cecelia over in a few minutes to make sure I'm out of the house."

No, I don't think that's necessary but it's good to see he knows me well enough. He should, he was the one who mentored me to victor 18 years ago. He was a lot better then. I turn and leave, the quicker I get there, the quicker this can all be over for another year.

**Naedle Olliston (16)**

You have got to be kidding me. Are they seriously going to try that again? I can see the kids from the other side of the classroom, the ones who are restless and are looking from side to side. I guess we are all on edge today; it is the most nerve-wracking day of the year, exams aside. Who knows which of us might not be here tomorrow? Who knows? None of us can for certain. All we know is that all of us hope that it isn't us.

I can see them out of the corner of my eye. They sit at the back of the class and snigger, I bet they're trying to pull some stupid prank and of course, as per usual, the teacher has no idea what is going on. "Hey Olliston, what do you call a girl who likes math?" One of them calls from two rows behind me.

He wants to play that game? Oh wow, well I suppose we better humour him. "Smart?"

"Keep your voices down." The strained voice of the teacher at the front of the class has a distant air that suggests that she isn't really concentrating on us. "There are only a few minutes of this class left."

Thank goodness, but does anyone ever pay attention to her? Nope. I turn around and glare at the idiot who has decided to try and make this day even worse than it is probably going to turn out. He doesn't deserve my attention but at least I can humour him.

"No you dumbass, the answer's you." Sniggers followed the comment and I simply roll my eyes.

"Wow, please come and tell me more of these incredible fascinating and hilarious jokes." I hit back, these idiots are really witty. "Give up, you lot couldn't work your way around the quadratic equation even if you wanted to."

And there is the look of complete confusion that I was looking for! Needle triumphs once again over the idiots who think that trying to make other people look like fools are going to end up well for them. "What's the quadratic equation?" I hear one of the whisper to the other.

"No clue, she's probably making up some rubbish to make us look back." The other whispers, although whispering doesn't really cover it when I can hear them from where I am seated.

With a satisfied smirk, I turn back in my seta and look at the piece of paper in front of me, the work we are supposed to be doing. I've completed it already, obviously. A shrill bell breaks anyone's concentration and there is a sense of joy of being let out of class but at the same time, a chill sets over the room. Minutes, that is how long any of us might have in this district.

The teacher sighs and closes her book. "Right, that's lessons for the day. Go back to your homes and get ready for the Reapings." She pauses and looks at each of us in turn. "I hope to see all of you in class tomorrow. Good luck."

The pity in her eyes shines bright, she knows exactly what it is like to go through the Reapings, every adult in this district has had to stand there with terror in their eyes, hoping that they aren't the one who is chosen. Grabbing my thin satchel that holds my school books, I am one of the first out of the classroom and it isn't until I am out of the school gates and heading down the dirt track, overshadowed by the tall grey buildings that are either side of the road, that I feel the presence of a familiar figure keeping in step with me. "Why didn't you wait for me?" The whiny voice makes me stop and glance down at my equally dirt brown haired brother, three years my junior.

"Calico, you know as well as I do that we have to run home if we want to get to the Reaping on time." I explain, as patiently as I can, sometimes he has an awful concept of time. "Now come on, I'm here aren't I?"

Grabbing his hand, I pick up my pace and break into a run, feeling the wind in my hair. He can't go into the Games, anyone but Calico.

**Smithe Cooper (16)**

"Come on Horus, close down this beautiful stall and we will be on our way!" I call as I watch the boy pack up the little street stall we have at the corner of the Hall of Solitude and the main high street.

Our little business is beautiful, it's an incredible way that I've managed to earn a good lot of money over the years and my parents are very proud of me. We are better off and living in the better part of the district because of what I have achieved and what my parents have achieved.

The skinny boy, who I have had to seriously clean up to make sure he was presentable for sales, smiles as he packs up the rest of the stall, clearing off the last of the coppers that were given by the passing pedestrians who bought the Capitol newspapers and the various odds and ends we sell. "How much did we make today Smithe?" He asks as I jangle the money in my palm.

It's normally a fair amount, around $30 a day on a good day, $15 on a bad day. On Reaping Day, it gets even better. Flicking through the notes and coins, I smile as the money is counted. "$40 Horus, we have managed to be even better than we are already!"

The boy gives me a toothy smile that almost reaches his ears, his eyes dancing with delight. "Oh boy! That's so cool!"

I hand him the money he gets, $15. "Go on, we've got to get to the Reapings. I can take the rest of the stuff home."

Grabbing the rest of the stuff, I watch as Horus dash into the distance as I take what is left of our stall and drop it down the side passage where my parents will collect it soon. Time for the Reapings, get this over and done with.

The town square is packed, the Hall of Solitude rises above us imperiously, waiting and watching over its people. I know a few of the faces around here, you get to when you are in the business that my parents and I pride myself in, but I doubt they know, or indeed remember, me. Murmurs surround all around me as glances go to the stage where two of our Victors are sat. I don't know their names and unless the worst comes to the worst, I won't need to.

Finally a hush falls over the crowd and my eyes are fixed on the funny little man who comes out with our mayor, our escort Dazzy Drake. "Welcome everyone to the 65th Annual Hunger Games, it is so wonderful to be back with you all again. Let's watch the wonderful video our glorious Capitol has so generously given us."

Generously? And they say I use the wrong words sometimes. It isn't as if we haven't seen the video before. I bet it's been the same video being played for the last 65 years; we all know what it says and why this happens. What kid in Panem doesn't know? The video finally ends before Dazzy moves over to the male Reaping bowl.

His hands dive into the bowl and we are all watching as he selects the piece of paper that will change the life of one boy forever. "Our male tribute is Smithe Cooper!"

Sorry, what? Me? That was my name that was called? What do I do? I need to remain calm, but I can't seem to move. I need to get up onto the stage but I don't seem to be able to go anywhere. Hey, what are the Peacekeepers doing here? I can walk there fine on my own. Can I? I can feel them pushing me to the stage; I don't seem to be able to move. Do I really need help? Look at all the people staring at me, what do I say? Do I say anything at all?

Before I can say anything, Dazzy goes over to the other bowl…who am I doomed to be sent to eh Capitol with. "Our female tribute is Naedle Olliston!"

I don't recognise the exact name, the surname is vaguely familiar but the girl who steps out of the 16 year old girl section is already welling up, the tears coming easily. Is she really crying? Or is it an act? I guess I'll find out soon enough.

**Naedle Olliston (16)**

It isn't Calico. Thank goodness it isn't Calico. The kid doesn't need this kind of thing to go through. No. Instead it's me. I'm the one who won't be in class tomorrow. Who knows where I'm going to be this time tomorrow. In the Capitol? In a bed? In the training centre? On stage, parading myself for the Capitol's pleasure? I mean sure, the fact that I got my moments of fame and I will be the centre of attention, if I play my cards right, is great. But this way? Not what I was planning.

I can do this, can't I? I can go into the Games and give it my best shot, can't I? I can have a go, do my best, right? I'm fast, I've had my fair share of fisticuffs and I'm not bad when it comes to keeping the energy up in running. Sure, I'll have a better stab at it than the other kid. What was the name? Smithe? He just seems a little strange. Who knows, I might be passing judgement way to early. He's in exactly the same situation as me, thrown into something I really don't want to be in. the least I can do is sympathise with him.

The room I'm in is incredible, but it's the people who are bursting through the door right now that are even more amazing. Calico is the first to reach me, his thin arms wrapping around my body, squeezing me tight. "Please don't go Naedle! You can't go, you have to finish school."

Aw bless him, the first thought he has is for my education. Always thinking of others, the sweet thing. "Don't worry about me Calico, I'll be home in no time. Right Cotton?"

I glance up at my brother, who doesn't share our dirt coloured hair but has our mother's sandy hair. He is biting his lip and forcing a smile onto his face, blinking away the tears. "Yeah, that's right Naedle. Mum and Dad wanted to talk to you separately, they let us come in first."

Of course, don't let the boys see my cry, let them see my break down. It'll happen eventually, I'm an actress; emotions are what come to me naturally. "You have to look after each other, you can do that, can't you?"

Calico nods. "Can we go and visit the boy's family in the Games? Maybe they will want some people to sit through the watching of the Games together."

I nod quickly; it's a sort of tradition in eight. You hear about the families of the tributes sitting together, especially if they are in an alliance together. "I don't know who the family are, but you look after them until I come home." I release Calico and embrace Cotton, leaning into his shirt, which smells exactly like the older brother scent that will always remind me of him. That was his last Reaping, he's safe now. "Make sure Calico doesn't get Reaped." I murmur so that only he can hear it.

He nods although we both know there is very little that he can do. "I'll keep him safe, don't you worry sis." He straightens up and releases me from the hug. He's up to something, what is he up to? Reaching into his pocket, he draws out his hand, which is clasped tightly around something. "I want you to have this Naedle, as your token for the Games."

Unclasping his hand, I gasp as I see what he has. It's his old silver ring, one that he found in the dirt one day when I was about four and there hasn't been a day where I haven't seen him wear it. It's his favourite, I don't know why, very few people really understand Cotton, but everyone knows it is his favourite. "I can't take that Cotton, it's your favourite."

He shakes his head and holds it up. "Look, it's a ring as a necklace." His eyes start to water and he breathes deeply. "Please take it Naedle, we have memories of you at home but you can't forget us while you're there. Take it to remember us by."

Finally I nod, if he really doesn't mind, I want to take it. "I'm going to come home and give this to you in person, okay?" I don't know what promise I'm making, I don't know how many promises to stay alive I've made but I will do my best to keep them. I have to, for them.

**Smithe Cooper (16)**

He has to carry on without me. It's a funny thought, I guess, having to do business and my friends going about their lives without me. I don't know what this life without me is like. I've only ever known myself to be in this world. Is this the time really to be so philosophical? I guess, now that perhaps the end of my life is getting closer and closer so it makes sense to be thinking about who I leave behind. Who each and every tribute that goes from here leaves behind.

The thought of not seeing my parents, of not getting to joke around with Hallen about his work, of not seeing Horus every day and occasionally Dalia when she decides to grace us with her presence, is weird. I have to make new friends, work out who I trust and who I don't trust within a matter of days. I have to look at potentially the face of my killer and see if they are decent enough to be friendly for an alliance, one that might keep me an alive for a few more days.

The door opens to the room and I frown as I see the older man who walks, well limps, into the room. He has a scowl on his face as he stands there, leaning on the door handle, his breathing slightly heavy. "Name?"

His voice is gruff and offbeat. Was he not listening to the Reapings? Or does he have a really bad memory? "Smithe…Smithe Cooper."

He sighed and nodded ever so slightly. "Alright Smithe, Smithe Cooper. Any nicknames? Anything strange I should know?"

"What do you mean strange?" I query, that's a very odd and random question.

"Any unusual habits I should be aware of? Any bad tempers that crop up? Any family issues?" He seems to be reeling off a list. Is this something he does every time he meets a new tribute? Slightly creep them out by being so blasé.

Fine then, let's play him at his own game. "Not that I am aware of, but then sometimes you realised that you don't really know you. What do you want me to do? Do we go now? Are we waiting for someone?"

The man simply snorts. "I'm Woof Karson kid, I'm old and I might die on you during the Games so don't rely too heavily on me." Well this is just getting better and better isn't it? "Rinzu will take care of the girl and you if it needs to come down to it but I will damn try to do my best to get you home. Just because I could die any day doesn't meant hat I don't care about you. Got that?"

Well that's a small mercy, certainly. "Great."

He nods and walks out of the door, down the corridor. Right, I guess that means that I need to be following him. Not much for polite conversation, is he? Going down the corridor, I can feel the Peacekeepers right behind me as we walk out of the back entrance and into the sun where the cameras are clicking away. They're so bright it's nearly hard to see the right way to go but there's a clear enough path to get to the train that's right on the doorstep. Metaphorically speaking of course.

The train itself is incredible, the metal is sleek and smooth, the inside is polished and everything is in its rightful place, I think. That is how the world seems to work here, and I like it. The carriage has so many colours it's hard to take them all in. The panelling is exquisite, the decorations are simply magnificent and I don't think I've seen some of the patterns ever before.

We move past several doors in the carriage, leading who knows where, before entering a larger room where I can see the girl who was Reaped. She looks as if she's been doing a lot crying, her eyes are blotchy. What do I do? Do I say hi? Do I go and comfort her. I've never been good with girls, well ones that get overly emotional. I mean, they have a right to of course, but I don't know how to deal with it.

The other guy who was on the stage comes over, a thin lipped smile on his face. "You must be Smithe, Rinzu Cherry, the other half of the mentor team. Do you and Naedle know each other?"

I shake my head. "I guess we will over the next few days."

That's the only way to get to know the people you might kill or be the one to kill you, get to know them. What a joy.

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><p><strong>So...what did you think? Did you like it? I hope that you did like it and do feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! The questions are below as usual:<strong>

_**What did you think of the chapter?**_

_**Which of these tributes did you prefer?**_

_**Would your tribute ally with either of these tributes?**_

**Here's to whatever the next chapter will bring as we head to another Career district (1 or 4...oooooh!) in just under a week! Do drop me a note to say what you think, whether good or bad! Constructive criticism is always valued. I've got four auditions tomorrow evening for the plays on this term at uni, I'll let you know how they go!**

**Happy writing,**

**PenMagic x**


	8. Indecisive and Self-Motivator

**HEY HEY HEY! SO GUESS WHO GOT A PART IN ONE OF THE PLAYS?! I got the news on Monday, it's a play written by my friend about the four horsemen of the apocalypse and I play a very lazy office worker who has done no work since the dawn of time! It's going to be crazy as the show is in five weeks but we'll see what happens. The read through is tomorrow and I'm so excited to see the rest of the cast!**

**I apologise that this is two days late, I have a presentation tomorrow that I've had to work out and do work on plus I had two plays to go and see...I hope you guys can forgive me.**

**But we head to our second Career district and right up to District 1, to the land of the Tate siblings, Carina Lavell and Bastian Pier who were both submitted by the wonderful LokiThisIsMadness! The italics in Bastian's first POV is a flashback, by the way.**

**WARNING: there is one swear word in the first sentence of Bastian's first POV so if it something you are not so keen on or don't approve or get triggered by it, or whatever then just skip that line...you get the idea, the character is angry.**

**Also, if you guys think you might get triggered by anything or you are triggered in any way by something I have written in the chapter, please do let me know. I will try to be very careful about putting trigger warnings in the chapters where there are nastier subjects looked at. **

**DISCLAIMER - I don't own Hunger Games, Gloss and Cashmere and the recognised stuff...all rights to Suzanne Collins etc...**

**So go ahead and read it, let me know what you think in the review box and I will hopefully be back on track to deliver another chapter on Sunday!**

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><p><strong>Cashmere Tate – Victor of the 61<strong>**st**** Hunger Games**

Reaping Day, I remember my own as if it was yesterday. I guess that four years isn't as far back as some of my fellow Victors have to remember, in fact any of my fellow Victors from 1. I don't know why I loved it so much, especially since there's a line this year. There's a line this year between who the district thinks they are going to be represented by and who Gloss and I know are going to be representing the district.

"Come on you two, do you honestly want to be mentoring your significant others?" Surah's voice is distant but it's full of sincerity as she sits at the desk in her office. This is where the meeting takes place, between the District One mentors as to who will be mentoring this year.

The Capitol trusts us enough to want any of us to come and serve the Hunger Games each year. The letters don't need to be sent out, we can manage it fine on our own. Gloss and I glance at each other, if what we have heard is true, then Surah's statement is less accusatory than questioning.

"Bastian isn't my boyfriend." I shoot back, he isn't! A boy and girl can spend time together without being in a relationship, shockingly it is possible. "Gloss and Carina are together, but Bastian and me? Never happening."

I hope that convinces them, the truth should. "You two have been mentoring for the last few years, since Cashmere won the Games." Surah adds and Dowlas nods his agreement before furiously writing something down on the pad of paper he carries around with him every day. "I am happy to do it, I haven't done it for years." Surah reads out before nodding. "I am more than happy to but if you two are fixated on mentoring then we cannot stop you."

Gloss and I smirk at each other. "Oh we are more than capable of handling the tributes and the Games this year." He nods quickly. "You guys, take the weeks off. Come to the Reapings and then go."

Coir grunts from where he is sitting in the largest chair in the room, the oldest living district Victor and one of the oldest people in the district. "If they want to go and mentor, just go and let them. Leave the rest of us in peace."

There is a snort from the small sofa that the two older women are sitting on. "Well I'm willing to fight for my spot as a mentor, these two are far too inexperienced, they haven't even come close to bringing a Victor home recently," Dazzle's speech is interrupted by my snort, wow how bad is her memory? "Uh, Sunshine Odale, two years ago? If the Aedan kid hadn't killed her, we would have had a Victor."

The woman shakes her head, glaring at me. I don't care about her, too celebrity obsessed for her own good and wanting the attention all the time. I want a new Victor as much as the next person but we have to be patient and do the best we can. Perhaps this year, this will be our year. "As I was saying, the incestuous siblings –" is she freaking kidding me? Incest? "They aren't fit to mentor the tributes. I, however, am beloved by the Capitol, adore going there and I have jointly brought two of you home."

Gloss snorts. "But not single-handedly, unlike the Victors that surround you Dazzle. Stop gloating, you lot have done it far too many times and the Capitol love us a lot more than they love you."

Surah glances at her watch before sighing, her fingers absent-mindedly tapping on the table. "We have just over an hour until the Reaping, we have been at this for far too long. I propose that Gloss and Cashmere go to the Capitol and mentor the tributes, whether it be Carina and Bastian or the two that Baise and the academy has chosen. Those in favour, raise your hand." I cannot help but smirk as everyone except Dazzle raise their hand and Gloss takes my hand. "Right, well that is decided. Gloss and Cashmere Tate, you two better go and pack your bags. You've got a Victor to bring home."

I smirk as Gloss and I stand, surveying the room with confidence. They have confidence in us and that is what matters. We will bring a Victor home; it's in our blood after all.

**Carina Lavell (18)**

I know what today is, I know what is in store for me, I know what is in store for 24 children all across Panem. Anyone would be stupid to not know what the day was. And here I am as if it is another normal day. Doing what I do every day, pushing myself to the absolute limit. If I had my way with what I wanted to do with each day and who I wanted to be, I wouldn't be training, I would be writing. What would I be writing? Anything and everything.

But no, I find myself twirling the knives, hitting the punching bags and climbing the twines of rope that hang around the room. "Carina?"

The call comes from up the stairs as I finish the last bulls eye that I've been throwing at for the last few minutes. "Yes father?" I call back, laying down the remaining knives that I had in my hands. I don't want to cause accidental injury to anyone who comes in here, friend or foe.

The door opens and the shaft of natural light from upstairs floods into the room, blocked slightly by the stocky man who stands in the doorway, his hands on his hips and the permanent frown etched on his face. "What's your score today?" No greeting, no welcome, no niceness. Just work.

I glance at the bull's-eye board that is at the far end of the long and thin room. It isn't too far to throw the thin knives that slip in my hand so easily. I move towards the board, narrowing my eyes slightly. "57 out of 70."

I bite my lip, it wasn't too bad the score but it wasn't the best score I've ever got and father knows that. "The day of the Reaping and you end up with a 57? That's pathetic Carina."

I hang my head; it is pathetic, especially for Reaping Day. This is the last chance I will get before I meet my opponents, before I see the 23 kids I will have to kill to get my hands on that coveted title of Victor. So many people have tried, and yet so many have failed. Another 23 this year will fail, but not me. I will succeed, I will be victorious.

"I know father, I'm sorry. I guess my concentration isn't on point today." I murmur, it's a pathetic excuse and I know it. But it's the best I've got and it makes sense. My attention is somewhere else, that little case of the Reapings, which are happening soon.

He snorts and that all too familiar look of disdain crosses his face. "Make sure it doesn't happen again Carina. You can't afford to lose your concentration in the Games. A lack of concentration can mean the difference between life or death." And I don't know that? Of course I know that. "Five more minutes of training and then you need to get ready for the Reaping. I want to see better than 57."

I nod; I understand what he is saying. He doesn't want to see better, he expects better. Knives are my strong point but there is a big difference between throwing them and hitting the board and hitting an actual person. What is that like? What is it like to take a life? I've tried to talk to Gloss about it but he refuses to talk about it, all the Victors do. It just isn't done, talking about the Games. Perhaps if I survive these Games I will understand why.

"Yes sir." I murmur before walking over to the board and plucking out the seven knives that I have stuck in the board. The Games, it's happening today. I should be excited, I should be thrilled that I will finally be getting the opportunity to represent my district and do what everyone thinks I do best, killing.

I can't think about the Games, it will put me off. I don't want to think about the future and how much…how much it unnerves me. Nerves that I refuse to show, that I will never let anyone see. I have to appear perfect; I have to appear as if I can kill them all. And then when the time comes, I will probably do it. Just not now, not today. Today I hit the boards and stay in my own little world. Tomorrow, tomorrow will be whatever it brings.

**Bastian Pier (18)**

"_WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" The noise reverberates around the house and I can hear from where I'm curled up in my room. Daddy doesn't use nasty words like that, not normally. Only when he's really angry._

_Why is that man that Mummy brought home screaming? Why is he yelling? Is he hurt? Is someone hurting him? Should I go and help? I don't want to get hurt; I don't want to scream like that. It seems to swim around in my ears for ages; I can hear the screaming and begging, it sounds like Mummy is trying to tell Daddy something. What is she saying? Where is Corie? Is she okay? I don't want anyone to get hurt! Why can't they stop screaming?_

_Why have they stopped? Now there is just silence. All I can hear is sobs coming from Corie's room. Is she okay? Where is Mummy and Daddy? The floorboards underneath my toes are cold but I need to see where Mummy and Daddy are. Pushing open the door to their room, I frown. Where's Daddy? Where's the man who was here? The one that Mummy told me I shouldn't tell Daddy was there. What's Mummy doing? She always looks up from what she's doing when I come into the room. Why is she lying on the bed in her nightclothes, not moving?_

"_Mummy?" It isn't hard to climb up onto her bed; I'm big enough to do that now. "Mummy, wake up."_

_Her eyes are closed; she looks like she's asleep. But what are those pink stain things on her neck? Why do they look like hands that are bigger than mine? What happened? "Mummy?"_

Well would you look at that, it's Reaping Day. My last Reaping Day that I have to care about. I mean sure, I'll care about the next two years that Coralie has to go through. But someone Volunteers, someone always volunteers for whoever is Reaped and I know that is a guarantee in this district. It's too much of an honour for anyone to refuse.

I don't know why I'm thinking of Mum and Dad. I haven't thought of them in a while. I mean, sure I think about them a lot, but I don't think about that night. I think of Coralie, how young she was. Heck, I wasn't exactly young at that time. I was five. She was three. Thirteen years, that's how long we've been on our own for. And we've managed fine. I've done odds and ends, she's gone to school and we've both trained.

I don't like being apart from Coralie, but I can see where she is in the 16-year-old crowd. She won't move from there until it's time for families to go and say goodbye to each other. Huh, I've already missed the stupid video they show each year. Hey, I've got nothing against the Capitol, I'd be did if I did, but it's a video I've seen far too many times.

Our escort is moving over to the boys' Reaping bowl. This is it; I just have to be Caea's little brother who is supposed to be volunteering. "Oskar Reinhole."

"I VOLUNTEER!" My voice joins that of so many of the boys around me and I rush up onto the stage, pushing Oskar who was about to get to the microphone, lucky git from being already onstage. "Slow down kid, you'll hurt yourself. Go for the Games in a couple of years."

He wants to protest but with knowing who my father is; all the younger kids think I'm the same. Guess that works in my favour. Grabbing the microphone, I gaze at the admiring faces in front of me. "I'm Bastian Pier and I will be your next Victor!"

The cheers rise from the crowd, I couldn't care about the other 18 year olds glaring at me. Too bad suckers. "Vestia Huren."

The 13 year old has barely stepped out of her section before the surge of girls clamber for the spot. I recognise the girl who makes it to the microphone, I've seen her at Gloss' house. Huh, weird. "I'm Carina Lavell and I will make you all proud."

Sure you will sweetheart, when you come back in a box. Because that is why it works, I will win and come home to Coralie where we can live happily ever after as we should. No more hatred for what our father did, no more cautious looks. A normal life.

**Carina Lavell (18)**

I did it. I did it. I Volunteered for the Games. I beat all of those other 18 year olds, including the one who was supposed to volunteer. I won! I won the first part of the Games, the district. Now I've just got to win their hearts and win the hearts of the Capitol who will help keep me alive. That can't be hard, can it? Gloss found it easy, his Games were finished within a matter of days. But then that's Gloss, the one that everyone loves.

I know this space well, I visited Gloss in a very similar room when we were just friends when he went off to the Games. And I'm pretty sure it was exactly the same room that Cashmere was put in four years ago when it was her turn to go into the Games, I saw her then as well. And now it is my turn to sit in this room where so many have gone before me, tried and sometimes succeeded, sometimes failed.

I wonder who is going to come to see me. What they will say, how they will feel about this change in all of our lives? I don't really know what I feel now that I'm actually going into the Games. It was what my father always wanted, my mother was always fairly blasé about it, both of them, and my siblings had their views, not that they've heard them since I've practically moved into Gloss' house a month ago.

"Carina! Where are you going?" Oh the noise of innocence. Killian, my seven year old nephew, bursts into the room, his older sister who I am pretty sure knows what's going on given that she's training, hot on his heels and their father, my brother, behind.

Killian looks up at me with those wide eyes of innocence that won't be innocent for too much longer if Karon is anything like our father, which he is, and will put him into training within the month. "I'm going away Killian, to the Hunger Games. You know, the big thing we watch on the screen every year."

He frowns, his brow creasing in concern. "Are you going to get hurt like those other kids?"

There is a snort from behind Killian and I glance up at Karon who shakes his head with a smirk that mimics our father to perfection. "Your aunt is far too good for that. Aren't you Carina?"

The venom laced in his voice can't be missed. I force a smile on my face; I have to look as if it will be a walkover to win the Games. "I'm far too good to get hurt Killian, don't you worry about me." I look at Brana who looks like me when I was younger, the tough look in my eye that I used to have when I wanted to win all the contests so badly. She'll be the perfect candidate for the Games. Great, just what this family needs. "Keep up doing what you want Brana, whatever that is. Games or not."

She nods but Karon glares at me, I don't miss it even though I'm not directly looking at him. "Don't get ideas into her head Carina." He nods curtly. "Say goodbye to your aunt you two. You'll see her in a few weeks."

They dutifully give me the hug and I nod curtly to Karon. "I'll see you soon." I pause; do I dare ask the question? "Has Isadore been let out to see me?"

Karon frowns. "Who is Isadore?"

Really? He's going to deny the existence of his younger sister? It's ridiculous, just because she's ill, it doesn't reduce her to non-existence. "Send in whoever is out there then. See you soon."

They go quite happily, as long as Brana and Killian keep thinking I'll be home soon, that's fine. Tristan is the one who comes in next and I can't help but smile. He's the only one of the family who I like. I mean, mother is okay but do we ever get to see her. "Hey you." He smiles as he hovers in the doorway.

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm not contagious you."

He comes over swiftly and envelops me in a tight hug. How am I going to live for the next few weeks without him giving me all the facts and figures of the time? It's a comfort from home I won't know I miss until it's gone. That's the way it works, isn't it?

**Bastian Pier (18)**

I didn't think Coralie would react like that. I didn't think she would be so hurt. She's got people to look after her. Caea has said she is more than willing to help keep an eye out for her and Cadmar, when he's sober enough, will make sure she doesn't stop eating. I've got to get these Games over and done with; I've got to win to prove to her that I can be the best big brother there ever was.

Let's get going, I want to get on the train and get going. I want to see who I am up against, learn a lot more about my district partner and see where her weaknesses are so I can play them to my own strengths.

I wonder who my mentor is. Cashmere had told me they didn't decide until the morning of the Reapings as they were all at the Reapings earlier, it cold be any of them. If it isn't Cashmere or Gloss, I guess Baise would be all right because she works at the training centre, so she knows me and knows my strengths. I subconsciously stroke the picture of Coralie that she gave me when she came to visit. It's the picture I will keep with me right up until the end. I cannot let her be anywhere except close to my heart. I tuck the photo into my top pocket of my shirt and look around the room. I'm pretty sure that my hour is going to be up at some point soon, my mentor should be coming to get me any time soon. This is rather boring, the wait.

Finally, that stupid door opens and I can feel my heart skip a beat as I see the young woman who stands in the doorway, that coy smile I know so well on her face. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." The smile stretches into a smirk as she tucks a stray strand of the dirty blonde hair behind her ear.

I can't help but smile too, there is always that sense of relief when you are given a project in class or a partner in the training centre that is someone you know or you like. And the fact that Cashmere is standing in the doorway is enough to tell me that the next few days are going to be that much better. "Long time no see Cashmere. It's been what, 24 hours absolute maximum?"

She nods to the corridor. "Come on then, let's get you out so the Capitol cameras can get a good look at their next Victor and get you on the train. We've got a good journey ahead of us."

I join her walking down the corridor and frown. "Wait, we aren't going straight to the Capitol? I thought that was how it worked."

Cashmere shakes her head and I can see the slight curls in her hair bouncing up and down. "There is a lot you are going to learn about the Games Bastian that I haven't told you. For example, the girl whose your district partner. Do you know that she and Gloss are romantically involved?"

Well that changes a lot of things. A weakness right there, if I was feeling particularly cruel I could really pull on those heartstrings to there. "I didn't know that, always good to know what your brother is up to. Or who I should say?"

A cheap shot at the girl I've never met but if I can't have money as the way to influence people, which I won't have in the Capitol, knowledge is the next best weapon and way of bartering goods. "Don't let Gloss hear you say that." Cashmere throws back but the tone in her voice tells me that she doesn't really mind. I don't care what Carina thinks of me, let alone Gloss. I'll only know her for a few days, use her alliance to get as far as I can and then dispose of her. That's the plan I've got already. And it's fool proof; it's worked time and time again over the years. Cocky and idiotic people in the traditional alliance between our district and 2 and 4 never learn. How many of those will we get this year? How much of a competition will I really have? Somehow I think I will have a fight on my hands. But a challenge is better than a walkover. Every time.

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><p><strong>So...what did you think? An interesting set of relationships with our two Victor mentors which should provide some excellent friction. What did you think of these two? If you want, there are questions below to answer and do fill in that little review box:<strong>

_**What did you think of the chapter?**_

_**Which of these tributes did you prefer?**_

_**Do you think their relationships with their mentors change their attitudes to each other?**_

**Happy writing you guys, I've got another audition on Friday for another show so I'll see how that goes as well...**

**PenMagic/Esther (the character I'm playing) x**


	9. Diplomat and Protector

**Hey! So I promised the next one on time and here it is! I will be able to get the next chapter up before the end of the month hopefully so keep your eyes peeled for the next one!**

**Thanks for all your ****congratulations for the play, I met the cast and did a first read through of the play. It's a fantastic play and I get to be very sarcastic which is always fun plus potentially a bit of stage fighting! YAY! Sadly I didn't the other audition I did, however I've got another one not this week but the week after that so fingers crossed that goes well as it's for a musical showcase thing...I don't know all the details but I want to do it! So here's hoping!**

**So we move back from the Career districts right back down to the lower end of the spectrum and to the land of our mentors Wenhan and Leonora (my OCs) and our wonderful tributes, Stag (Obviously Entei) and Oakley (Alex Bailey Fairy Godmother). We are now over half way with the Reapings (YAY) so I've changed things up and we're going to get the mentor's POV at the end of the chapter! OOOOOOOOOOOH!**

**So go ahead and read the chapter, do let me know what you think in the review box at the bottom!**

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><p><strong>Stag Browning (18)<strong>

It's the last one. The last one before I can worry more about the others than me. The last one before I can join Windy and Storm in worrying about Natalie, Aries and Peregrine. And Lark when he's old enough. Another four years and goodness knows how he'll cope if he's put into the Games. I have to concentrate on getting everyone there, getting through it and then getting back. Not too difficult, right?

"Come on you guys, let's get going." I call up the stairs to where I am 100% sure all four of my siblings are sitting on their various beds or makeshift beds and trying to get out of going to the Reaping for as long as possible.

I seem to be the only one is vaguely ready for the Reaping, although a pair of boots that are too big and a brown button down shirt that's too small isn't exactly the best preparation but it's the best I could do. Storm is sitting in the kitchen, pacing up and down. He dislikes the day as much as the rest of each other and I can hear Windy trying to coerce Lark into getting dressed into whatever we can find for him.

"How long have we got?" A call come from upstairs and I move halfway up the stairs to where I can see Peregrine looking down from the landing, a frown creasing her brow.

I glance out of the window at the sun in the sky; it's hard to see it given that storm clouds are quickly approaching. "I reckon we have an hour before we have to be there but you know how long it takes to walk there." I smile as I see what she's wearing; it's one of Natalie's old dresses as the girl may be the same age but is a good couple of inches taller. "You look great Pere, now go and get Natalie and tell Aries to hurry up."

She nods quickly and disappears along the corridor to where she and Natalie share a room. We're lucky to have one of the bigger houses in this part of the district, but I guess that's what comes when both parents work and earn a decent amount to keep us all in school and vaguely well fed.

I can hear all of them upstairs; the quiet in the downstairs part of the house gives me that advantage at least. I can hear Aries moving in our room, not too quickly the silly boy. He has no sense of speed. "A quick one for good luck."

Wait, is that Maria? What is she doing here? What is she doing in our room? Bounding up the stairs, I fling open the door to our room to find Maria, my girlfriend, and Aries with their lips locked in a kiss. "Are you freaking kidding me? Maria? Aries?"

They jump apart, Maria looking more like a frightened rabbit than anything while Aries just scowls at me. "Oh, Stag…I just…"

I should have seen this coming, she being here when I get home many more afternoons than usual, she walking to school with Aries and me. It all adds up, how could she? "Please explain Maria, because we all know what this looks like." I turn on Aries who has moved over to his side of the room and is buttoning up his shirt. "Really? Of all the people in the district and you choose my girlfriend. I thought you were better than that Aries. I thought you would never sink that low."

Aries turns back to me with a snort, I can't help but glance between them, they are constantly looking at each other. Yes, something is very much going between them. "Come on Stag, you didn't expect you two to last. It isn't exactly as if you're much of a looker."

Oh he really is sinking that low. "Don't say things like that Aries." Maria shakes her head and turns towards me, how can such a beautiful girl have played me? "I'm sorry Stag."

I snort; I can't deal with this right now. "I don't want to hear your excuses you two. Get dressed and get downstairs. We leave for the Reapings in five minutes. I don't want to speak to either of you before then."

I hope I sound angry, I'm quite angry with them but not overly. I'll burst when the Reaping is over and we're all safe for another year.

**Oakley Shelton (13)**

Take a deep breath, take a deep breath and don't freak out. It's my second year; they aren't going to pick me. My parents got through their seven Reapings absolutely fine; it should be the same for me, right? You don't know anything with these Games; this could be my last day in the district. Or it could be another day where we have to say goodbye to two people who may or may not come back to us. And given District 10's terrible record with Victors, it is more likely to be the former.

"I don't want to go into town!" And that would be Dom, complaining again. Great, just what I need. There's enough stress as it is, I don't want his tantrums to wind me up. "I want to stay at home."

I kneel down and glare at my younger brother who has the same mop of dark red hair. "Dom? Do you remember those big men in the white suits who come past the house every so often?"

He nods quickly; he's terrified of the Peacekeepers. I mean it's totally understandable; they can be really freaky when they want to be. And to a four year old who just understands the idea that not everyone in this world is as nice as he thought, they are the pinnacles of horror.

"Well, if you don't come with me and Mum and Dad, they are going to come into the house and force you to the Square. So do you want to come with us where we might even be able to get you a treat after the Reaping," there isn't a big chance of that but bribery always works, "or do you want to get hurt by the big men in the suits?"

His eyes widen and he dashes along the corridor and into the room that we share. I knew that would work. "Where's Dominic?" Mum's amused and gentle voice comes from behind me.

I turn with a smile on my face. "Getting dressed, we'll be able to go soon. The threat of Peacekeepers sent him packing."

True to my word, he is ready within a few minutes and we leave the house, the four of us. I'm the only one who is dressed vaguely smartly; I'm the only one who might go on camera today. It's a good half an hour walk at least to the town square where the Reaping is taking place and I quickly hug my parents and Dominic before going into the line to get my finger pricked. It doesn't hurt too much, it just sort of happens and soon I'm making my way to the girls' section where we have stand.

"Hey Oakley." The familiar voice of Avalon is right behind me and I turn to smile at the girl who is grinning. "You nervous?"

Why would anyone not be nervous? "Yeah a little."

Phew, we've just arrived in time as soon enough our escort totters out and I can see the Victors on the stage, all three of them. I wonder who is going to be mentoring. The video starts to play and I scrutinise it, no of course there is no difference to the one we got last year.

The escort, whose name we never remember, goes over to the girl Reaping bowl. Please not me, please not me. "Our female tribute is Oakley Shelton."

What? No, please no! I don't want to go into the Games. Avalon's smile has disappeared and there's a path now formed by my former classmates to the middle path. What do I do? I don't want to do this. No, I will not let the Peacekeepers get to me. One step in front of the next, get to the stage. How can they pick me? I'm too young! I won't last a minute in the Games.

I scowl at the escort as I finally make the stage. I think my legs might collapse underneath me. Before the escort can say anything or even look at me, she goes over to the male Reaping bowl. "Our male tribute is Aries Browning."

No, I don't recognise the name but the boy who steps out of the 14 year old section has a scowl that is quickly fading. He looks lost; we're in the same boat now. "NO! ARIES!" Is that his brother fighting out of the 18 year old section? This almost never happens. The Peacekeepers are shoving him back but he won't budge. "I VOLUNTEER!"

Now that happened.

**Stag Browning (18)**

What did I just do? What did I just get myself into? The Games, the Hunger Games. I just volunteered for The Hunger Games. Am I crazy? Perhaps I am, to save a brother, one who has just got with my cheating girlfriend. It was impulsive; it was an instinct, to protect those who are younger than me. Why do I have that instinct? Why did I do it? Now Aries might live to see another four years of his life, perhaps he will get Reaped again. And I won't be there to shelter him again.

I can't stop pacing up and down this room, what have I got myself into? Have I really protected my family? My friends? The kids back at the orphanage? No, of course I haven't. I've only gone and potentially killed myself. And the girl who has been Reaped? She's barely a year older than Nat and Pere. She's tiny, how on earth are either of us going to survive this? One of us isn't, that's for sure.

"Stag!" I knew he'd be the first to burst through the door, the one who I saved, well if that's really the right word, as he pauses in the doorway.

I stop pacing and watch the boy who has his arms crossed over his chest while Lark is quicker to come and give me a tentative hug which I gently give back. He's not much of a one for touch so when he does, it's a precious moment. "You've got to look after them, alright?"

He shakes his head. "Why did you do that? Why did you sacrifice yourself?"

I look at him, why is he mad at me? "Hey, I saved your life Aries, just be grateful for that. You have to look after them, after the girls and Lark." I tilt my head to try and look past Aries. "Where are they?"

Aries lets a small smirk slip on his face. "They're making sure we all get long enough to say goodbye." He moves forward into the room better and closes the door. "Uh, they weren't letting the kids from the home come to say goodbye to you. Pretty much all of them wanted to."

Oh. I won't get to say goodbye to the kids I've made sure to protect for the last few years? I guess it makes sense in some kind, to not have all 60 kids from the home come to see me at once. "Right. Send my regards to them, won't you? Next time you see them? Tell Meeko to look after Cricket for me and tell her I miss her."

Aries smiles slightly and opens his unclenched fist to show me a thin rope armband, handmade. "Actually, before they were escorted back, Meeko asked me to give you this. It's from her and Cricket, a token if you would take it from them."

The crude handiwork of a seven year old will most certainly break very easily in the arena. But I will take it; I will make sure they can see it on the TV back here when I go. The kids back at the home will know that I haven't forgotten them, whatever I will be forced to do.

I take it from him. "Thanks Aries." I kneel down and let Lark give me a bigger hug. "You're going to be a good boy to Mum and Dad while I'm away, aren't you Lark."

He nods solemnly; I don't think he quite knows what exactly is going on but that I'm going away. If I die, he'll be the one who will move on fast. "Be safe Stag." He murmurs and I smile, he likes to know everyone is safe. Not that I will be but the sentiment is always appreciated.

Time is almost up. "You go with Aries now, and take good care of Peregrine and Natalie. Do all your homework and go to bed on time. I'll be back soon enough." Aries breathes deeply, now there is a sentence in a promise I might not be able to keep. But I'm sure as heck going to make sure I try.

"Good luck Stag, I'll see you soon." I can hear his voice cracking slightly.

"You know you want to." I open my arms and Aries runs into them, giving me the biggest hug. He might look tough, but he's a real softie. How am I going to survive without them?

**Oakley Shelton (13)**

I'm never going to forget that look of terror on Dominic's face. The look of confusion as to why I'm in the room, as to why he has to leave without me. A four year old shouldn't have to be separated from their older sister, perhaps for forever. A four year old shouldn't have to be made aware of the horrors of death and being parted from those he cares about.

Mum and Dad were just as bad, but they were trying to put on a brave face for Dominic. I was just as bad as Dominic; perhaps I shouldn't have tried to start crying. Now I've got to go and face all of those cameras from the Capitol with the red eyes, the betrayal that tells them I've been sobbing my eyes out. The stronger tributes will mark me out immediately as an easy target and I'll be dead before I've got a chance to fight.

I can't think negatively, I've got to think that perhaps I might have a shot at this. Who knows, the boy who won last year was only 14. But then he was trained. He knew what he was doing. Me? I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm good at, I don't know my weaknesses, I don't know who I am up against and who could be my ally.

I try to curl up into the sofa further as I try to clear my mind, sniffing and wiping away the stray tears that are threatening to fall. I can't cry any more. No, I must look older than I am, I must look more confident and settled than this.

The door opens as I sit up and force the tears away from my eyes. I didn't think that anyone else was going to come and see me. My time must be up soon enough. Who is she? The woman standing in the doorway has her hands on her hips, her thick black hair cascading past her shoulders, it's nearly as long as mine is. Her lips are stretched in a thin smile.

"You poor thing." She murmurs after a moment and offers a thin hand. "I'm Leonora, I'm your mentor."

Oh, she's one of the Victors. I thought I recognised her from somewhere. "I'm Oakley, Oakley Shelton."

Leonora's smile grows a little wide. "I heard your name at the Reaping. Now come on, let's get you to the train. Have you been on one of them before?"

The train. I've never been on one, of course, no one gets to go on the train unless they're really important. But you hear about them, everyone in school gets taught about what the other districts provide. Transport is District 6's job; I bet they get to go on trains all the time!

I shake my head. "What are they like? We learned about them at school."

Leonora laughs, I like her. She isn't mean, she isn't judgemental and it doesn't look as if she has written me off as if I won't be able to get through these Games. Well maybe she does think it but she isn't showing it. "They are great, they can make us travel to the Capitol really fast. I think you'll like them, it's very shiny and sleek as well. Come on, this is the way to the car that will take us to the train station."

A car! Now there is something I haven't been in before either. It's gorgeous, the one that Leonora and I get into. It's got so many different colours and I can barely notice the flashes of the camera when I get inside. Perhaps I can make the best of this trip to the Capitol. Just because I'm going to potentially die does not mean that I can't enjoy what I am being given while I have it.

The train is as amazing as Leonora says it is. I know my eyes are wide as I step out and I catch myself just in time to shoot my best smile at the cameras before we go inside. I've got to play the Capitol at their own game, make sure that they, and all the other tributes think that I'm the biggest sweetheart they've ever seen. Perhaps when I get into the arena, if I can convince myself first, I can show them something else. To get home, not for anything else.

**Wenhan Elios – Victor of the 56****th**** Hunger Games**

I had hoped we would get a decent pair of tributes this year, I had hoped that this year we might have had a shot at it. Perhaps we could have made it past the bloodbath this year. But no, why should I have even begun to think we might have had a shot? We have a terrible record with Victors, four of us and Peccary died before I was born.

I watch the two kids curled up on the sofa, Oakley is trying desperately to rub the look of tears away from underneath her eyes. And the Stag kid is sitting as far away from her as possible, looking thoroughly awkward and not quite sure what to do with himself or with Oakley. My bet is on Stag, that's why I persuaded Leonora to take Oakley. She can handle younger girls better than I can. I'm always better with the older tributes.

Leonora glances at me from where she is sitting on the other side of the carriage room. I raise an eyebrow and shake my head. "We're on our way to the next district." I comment after a moment and both of them look up at me, Stag's brow creased in a frown and Oakley's eyes wide and brimming with tears. "In a few hours we'll be able to see a complete recap of the entire Reapings, when we've visited all the districts to pick up the tributes."

Stag frowns slightly. "Wait, we have to go to all of them. So there are other tributes on this train?"

Leonora nodded curtly. "Yes. You can't go and see them. Capitol policy, they don't want you all hating and trying to kill each other before the training has even started." I'm slightly surprised when Stag doesn't retaliate angrily. Perhaps his height doesn't match his personality. That's always better.

"Fair enough." He shrugs and leans back against the sofa. They seem rather composed, for two teenagers who are going to fight to the death. Perhaps they aren't going to freak out. Perhaps they won't be completely ignorant and actually have a stab at this thing. "So what do we do now?"

Now that is a very good question. It always depends on the tributes, what kind of state they are in. glancing out of the window, I can see the fields of District 10 disappearing behind us, the green fields turning and darker, the clouds in the sky beginning to darken as well. The fields are disappearing nearly as fast as my hope for these tributes.

"You can go to your rooms if you want, take a rest. Or you can stay here; lunch will be served soon enough. Whatever you guys want, we won't force you to do anything until the Reaping Recaps." Leonora cuts in before I can as she nods to the two tributes. Before she can continue, I butt back in.

"We'll be in here and we will answer any questions that you might have, as best as we can." Leonora nods her agreement.

There is a pause for a moment as Stag and Oakley look at each other. They aren't deciding together, that is much by the fact that they are just staring at each other, blankly. "I think I'm going to go to my room." Oakley murmurs after a second, tossing her hair behind her back and standing up, biting her lip.

Stag nods quickly and joins her. "Yeah, I think I'll go to my room too."

They leave without another word, they know where they are heading, it isn't exactly hard and we've shown them the rooms. I take advantage of the free sofas and collapse in the space recently vacated by the tributes and lean my head back against the soft cushion.

"So," Leonora cuts in after a pause, "what do you think of them?"

I snort; at least I can show my emotions a little more here. "Honestly? The girl is a dead cert bloodbath. The boy might make it a little further, but I don't have high hopes."

I know I'm being pessimistic, I like to see it as more realistic, but since when have we ever done well? Other than the four of us who made it out. Of nearly 130 that could. "You need to have a little more faith Wenhan." Leonora's voice is chiding and annoying, she's being patronising and she knows it. "A little faith is all they need to get them as far as they can."

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><p><strong>Oooooh, so what do you think? Our mentors aren't too hopeful this year but can they be proven wrong? Do let me know what you think in the review box below and if you want to, you can answer the questions that are also there:<strong>

_**What did you think of the chapter?**_

_**Which of these tributes did you prefer?**_

_**Would your tribute (if you had one) ally with either of them?**_

**Happy writing and see you on Saturday for the next update!**

**PenMagic x**


	10. Pampered and Leader

**HEY HEY HEY! A lot of you seemed to have disappeared recently...please come back! I get a little upset when people submit tributes and then completely ignore the story, don't you want to see where your character is going?**

**So I've just come back from seeing a university production of Evita by Andrew Lloyd Webber...and it blew my mind! It was insane and I'm still reeling from how good it was. The vocals were incredible, the acting was beautiful and my friend got to play one of the supporting characters, Magaldi, because the guy who had originally played him, his voice cracked the day before opening night so he learnt the lines in 8 hours. EIGHT HOURS. Then he went on for opening night. They closed tonight and it was so emotional.**

**ANYWAY, I better let you guys read the story! We move up in the district numbers to District 6, to the land of Bethany O'Hara's killer and her fellow mentor Blimp and to our wonderful tributes Jasmyne (stellaslomp) and Dorian (Munamana)! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!**

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><p><strong>Jasmyne Taylor (14)<strong>

Reaping Day. Where I have to actually do something. I don't even want to have to go through with this. Why should I have to do something that someone else has told me to do? It isn't fair. But I know that I can't ignore the day that is today. I've learnt that lesson, rather unfortunately. I can remember the Peacekeepers dragging me out of the house and rather unceremoniously dumping me in the 12-year-old female section. How dare they? I still can't stand them, the way that they look at you as if they are going to kill you, the complete lack of interest and emotion on their faces.

What should I wear today? I want to look my best, if I am to leave this house and do something that is against my will, I might as well look my best. I wore the baby blue dress for the Reaping last year; I can't be seen in the same thing. That would be atrocious. The lilac dress is an idea, but I don't know if it is too short to wear. I don't want to be seen as someone who…flounces her assets. As if I would work, especially that kind of work.

"Tear." I call out from where I am wrapped in my blankets on my bed, still in my pyjamas. The young lady, who is perhaps in her late 20s, peeks into the room, a look of concern on her face. "Which dress should I wear?"

She smiles as she looks at the range of dresses in the wardrobe. "How about the pink one Miss Taylor? It suits you very well and you can wear many of your jewels with it. I believe it perfectly suits you."

I look at it, it is perfectly my size and the colour will make me stand out from my peers. Of course everything about me makes me stand out, I am who I am and I cannot change that. I nod after a pause. "That sounds good. Help me get dressed, I can't get to the Reapings alone."

She nods and I slip out of the covers, holding my arms up so that she can take it off. I'm not going to take my own clothes of, who do you think I am? A common person. It's slightly cold in the room as I shiver, my small feet brushing against the floorboards beneath them. I stand and watch as Tear moves over to my wardrobe and gets the dress. It looks beautiful on the hanger but of course it is going to look even more amazing on me. Of course it will. Anything looks better when I'm wearing it. The silk slips over my head smoothly and I bring my curls from where they were caught in the fabric, back over my shoulders.

"Do up the zip." I state, I don't ask for things. They are just done for me and Tear nods quickly before moving my hair to the side and doing the zip up the back of my dress quickly.

Moving over to where all my jewels and accessories lie in a neat line, I sit down at the small stool and regard myself in the mirror. Now what makeup should I be wearing for this event? Something nice and simple or striking? If I am Reaped and I certainly hope I will be, I need to get out of this horrific low lifestyle and make myself known in the circles of the Capitol, I need to look my best.

"What would you like done with your hair Miss Taylor?" Tear's timid voice questions and I pause for a moment, another incredibly important factor, my gorgeous hair.

"Just brush it I think Tear, I want to keep the curls today. People say I look more adult if I've got the curls rather than my hair tied up. And I certainly don't want to look like a child, I am almost a grown woman."

She nods and I glance at my jewels laid out on the table. Do I wear the gold chain with the seashell that they say came all the way from District 4? Do I wear the silver chain with the diamonds from the far reaches of District 2? Each of these came from another district; each of them has their own special signature. I wish I could wear all of them. But I guess one will have to do.

**Dorian Dumont (18)**

Reaping Day. You know, I bet this year is going to be my year. I bet this year is the year I'm going to get Reaped. They hate me enough as it is; they might as well try and get rid of me as soon as possible. To be fair, they could have done it for the last few years but I'm sure they are going to get me at some point. As I walk through the town, waiting for anyone to come and jump me, I glance at the people who are surrounding me. Most of them don't know who I am. I mean, why should they, I'm not exactly the most well known person in the district, no that badge of honour goes to Orion Haxford, the biggest jerk in the district.

"Hey Dorian!" The sound of a very recognisable voice comes from behind me that makes me turn around.

Allisa Sparks, my voice of reason, smiles as she comes over to me. "Hey Alli, are you ready to go?"

She raises an eyebrow before frowning. "What's that Dorian?" What? What is she talking about? Coming up to me, she moves the collar of my shirt away and glances at the newly formed red on my skin. "Is that another scar?"

Oh great, here we go again. "Look Allisa, I can handle it. The pain is pretty numb to me now and it isn't as if they're going to kill me given that I'm still Reaping age. And anyway, I should have swung by now but by some weird thing, I haven't. So don't panic."

She rolls her eyes as she walks away and I run to catch up with her, our path going quickly to the town square. "I should be panicking, in fact I'm pretty much panicking about the fact that I'm not panicking that this is the third lashing you have received in the last three weeks. You are right Dorian; you should have been killed by now. And the fact that they are holding off on you for so long worries me. It's a best friend's job to worry."

Really, we are going to go into this again? "Look Allisa, what I do is my responsibility. Come on, let's just get this whole thing over and done with."

We move into the square and I can see the Peacekeeper glaring at me from behind his visor. Oh what's the bet I've got on the wrong side of him at some point? Probably. With my finger pricked, I smirk at Allisa as we part ways, she heading to the 18 year old girl section, and me to the same but obviously for the boys.

It isn't too long before our escort arrives. He looks ridiculous, although perhaps no more ridiculous than any Capitol escort normally looks. "Welcome District 6 to the 65th Annual Hunger Games! Let's watch the video that the Capitol has provided for us. The reminder." Oh joys, the reminder that none of us need. We all know the story; we know how it goes and what happens. It's just a bore to pretend to watch it. Finally it decides that that is enough and the escort totters over to the male Reaping bowl. I don't even want to know how many times my name is in there. "Our male tribute is Dorian Dumont."

Well, well, well, would you look at that? Stuff this, breaking out of the line, I start towards the nearest Peacekeeper but he's got me already on the floor. How dare they? I am going to put as much of a fuss as I can, I lash out against them but there's too many of them to count and I finally find myself standing on the platform. This is just ridiculous. I hope the Capitol caught that on camera and saw it, I hope that the rest of the tributes know that I may be heading into the Hunger Games, but I'm going to go in fighting.

The escort has moved over to the girls' Reaping bowl already and selected the name. Shame I can't quite see who it is from here. "Our female tribute is Jasmyne Taylor!"

Who? As in the Taylor family, one of the wealthiest families in the district, rivalling the Haxford jerk and the mayor? The girl who comes out of the 14 year old section is anything but crying, in fact she is smiling. Great, I've got a crazy one. This should be interesting.

**Jasmyne Taylor (14)**

I have been Reaped! I am going to the Capitol! I am going to get to go and see all of the amazing places that I have only dreamt of before. I can't believe that this is happening! What will I get to do? What will the people think of me? I mean of course they are going to love me, but what will they do? Do they act like we do? Do they eat the same things? I hope not, I want to taste something different from the usual that I am forced to eat each day.

The room I'm in is adequate, the colours aren't very pretty and some of the chairs could do with nicer cushions, but I guess it will do to receive those who want to see me. Whether I want to see them is another question altogether. I am off to live a new lifestyle. I am off to start a new life.

"My poor baby! My sweet Jasmyne! Why did they have to choose you?" And there is my mother, her usual distraught self, I can hear her before she enters the room and crushes me in a hug.

"Mother, watch out for the dress." I exclaim, how could she be so thoughtless? This dress is extremely expensive.

She wipes her tears away as my father also hugs me, he gives softer hugs and I can see he's trying not to cry. Why are they crying? I am going to live a better life now. Perhaps they are crying because they can't come with me. Yes, that must be it. "My sweet baby, off to the Games. Why couldn't they have chosen someone else? Why couldn't we keep you for longer?"

I snort. "Mother, I am off to the Capitol." I remind her, the mere idea of it making me sigh with happiness. "Imagine all the amazing people I am going to meet, I can see what the Capitol is like and then I can come home and tell you all about it, and you can come and live with me there."

My father frowns, what is the matter with these people. "Jasmyne, do not forget that you are not there on holiday to the Capitol. You have to face the other 23 children in the arena. You could die."

Pssh, that's a minor thing. They will be no match for me and I will get everyone to just do the work that I don't need to do for me. "Of course I won't die Daddy, I'm a Taylor and we don't go down easily. Why must you worry and have so little faith in me? I am getting out of this horrible district for good."

Both of them look a little put out. "Are you not worried about the Games? You are going to have to work for them if you want to get out."

I wave the comment away. Me? Doing work? No thank you. "People can just do the work for me. I can use my natural charm and the Gamemakers will fall for me, the other tributes will fall for me and no one will want to kill me. In fact, they will be killing each other just for the chance to be near me."

Why do my parents look shocked? That is the way that it is going to happen, there is no question about it. "Your time is up." The nasty Peacekeeper who nearly threw me in here comes back into the room.

"Goodbye my sweetheart." My parents wish me the best of luck before they leave. They are far too good to do anything as lowly as be forced out of a room. No, that is for the weak and those who are faint hearted.

I do not fear death, if it comes, which I know it won't. I am excited for what the next few days, how hard can it be to charm my way through a Game. Everyone loves the cute kids and they always make the best impressions. They always get the sponsors and of course that is how I am going to win the Games. You don't actually expect me to do any of that training? It is for those who are not ready for what is to come, for those who do not understand how these Games work. It is about who you know, not what you know. Every time.

**Dorian Dumont (18)**

I'm surrounded by Peacekeepers, almost completely, and it's unnerving me. I'm not exactly going to do anything and they can't exactly kill one of the tributes in the Hunger Games. That kind of defeats the point of making a spectacle of the rest of us. I guess that would be a rather interesting plot twist, one of the tributes is dead before the training has even started, before they even got a proper look at him. Before they looked at him as if he was a puppet to be played with.

So…what do we do now? This is awfully boring, I'm pretty sure that all the people who have wanted to say goodbye to me, have come. So surely whichever of our very capable Victors that is going to mentor me, should be coming to get me at some point soon? Sooner rather than later preferably, I want to know what this kid Jasmyne is like. Why do I get the feeling I won't like her? Just a hunch of course, we might end up becoming the best of friends and not wanting to live in the Games without each other. Psh, now if that was to happen, pigs would be able to fly. No, just because she's my district partner, does not mean that I am automatically going to become her ally. I don't want to be stuck with someone I don't like.

The door opens, thank goodness, and I furrow my brow as I see the fairly tall man who stands in the doorway, his hands in his jacket pocket and his face is contorted into a curious expression. What is he doing? "Dorian Dumont?" He queries after a moment.

I spread my arms wide. "Do you see any other tributes for these Games in here?" He blinks, okay clearly not in the mood for some light-hearted banter. "Yeah, that's me." I stand and look around at the room. "So are we heading off to the train? I've always wanted to see one of those completed. Too many years working at the factory, you never see the finished product."

There, there is the faint shaft of a smile that I knew was going to happen eventually. They all fall for my charms, of course they do. "I think you might be impressed. I'm Blimp, by the way, Blimp Pordal."

Of course, there's the name. I knew it, of course I knew it, we all know about the Victors. "Yeah, right. Sorry, I can be bad at names."

Blimp nods his head towards the door. "Follow me, the building backs right out to the train station. One of the joys of being the transportation district."

The corridors all look exactly the same, how does anyone not get lost in here. As we step outside, the sun beating down on us, the cameras start to flash all around me and it is almost blinding as the shouts of the various reporters surround me. Right, keep the tough guy look. I frown and glare at the cameras, as much as I can, that way they'll know exactly who I am, the one who wasn't pleased to get all the attention. I'm not; it isn't exactly the best circumstances to be in.

The train is even better than I saw from my tiny station in the factory. I could probably tell you about a few of the parts that make up this beautiful piece of machinery. "I'll show you where everything is later. I want you to first meet Luisa and Jasmyne."

Ah, that's the other mentor, the crazed one from three years ago. I've always wanted to meet her, she seemed…interesting. The main area for us has plush seating and a table that I really hope will be laden with food very soon. The two women in the car are clearly already not on the best of terms. Luisa is pacing up and down and Jasmyne is sat on the sofa, her arms folded across her chest. Blimp coughs slightly and both look up at us, Luisa stops pacing and Jasmyne looks up, a frown on her face.

"Dorian, meet Luisa Laney and Jasmyne Taylor." Blimp indicates each of them, as if it is difficult to tell the difference.

I offer a hand to Luisa who takes it sharply. "A pleasure to meet you both."

Jasmyne doesn't reply but simply turns back to where she was. This should be ions of fun with her on board.

**Blimp Pordal – Victor of the 34****th**** Hunger Games**

I don't know why Luisa wanted the girl, she's stuck up and bossy from what little I have managed to gage of the 14 year old since encountering her on the train. Perhaps Luisa still isn't comfortable with mentoring tributes close to her own age. Now that I can understand, but I predict something will spark and go off before we even get to the Capitol. Great, just what I wanted, to have tumultuous Games that I'll have to clear up the mess after.

Dorian seems competent enough, a little passive perhaps but I guess sometimes it is easier to put up a defence mechanism when you are thrown into something you are definitely not ready for. Neither of them is, I guess he's a little more prepared than the scrawny kids Wellen and Zamboni had last year. The closest we came was Steph the year after Luisa, but it's so rare to get two Victors in consecutive years, Gloss and Cashmere are the only ones I can think of right now.

I rub my eyes as I pause by the drinks table in the dining car. Dorian and Luisa are sitting on the sofa at the end of the room, looking out at the fast disappearing view of District 6. I guess that's the way to break it to them, let them see the last of their home, for one of them it will be the last time. Perhaps both. I don't want to pass judgment yet, to give up hope. No, that's always Luisa's job.

"Right you two." Luisa's snappy voice cuts them out of their reverie as I pour myself a large glass of orange juice. Gosh I had forgotten how good the stuff that the Capitol gets, is. I can see outside the windows that we're approaching the border to District 8. At least that is what I remember. Whether that is the next District that we are going to stop at is another question altogether. "So this is how it is going to work. Blimp and I officially are working with one of you each, but we always tend to work together to help you."

The girl turns around, folding her arms over her chest and frowning slightly. "And what if we don't want your help?'

Dorian snorts and keeps his gaze at the window. "I don't know about you kid, but I am planning on coming back here. And they know what they are doing, they have done this before."

Thank goodness I've got the one that talks sense. I can most definitely deal with that. Luisa nods slightly. "He's right kid, we have a thousand more years experience than you and so if you ever plan on making it out of that arena alive, you better pay good attention."

She huffs. "My daddy will make sure that I get all the sponsor money that I need, I don't need you two to babysit me."

I love my district, I really do. But when you get kids like this who think they know better than you, you really do want to think again. "Sponsor money is one part of the process of getting out, yes." I put my glass back down with a little more force than usual. "But you need to train, you need to learn things that will keep you alive. Your parents and their money can't keep you out of the fights you will encounter in the Games." I frown, locking eyes with Jasmyne, if she doesn't hear this, we might as well give up her now. "And trust me, if we were to throw you into the Games now, you wouldn't last a second. So buck up, listen to what we have to say if you want to go back and join us in the Victor Village."

Dorian stands up and looks around the room. "So, what tips can you give us? Any advice? Tips for training? Ideas for how to charm the Capitol."

I snap my fingers and point at him, coming around to where he is stood. "I like you kid, you have the right mind-set. Tip number one, listen to everything we say and don't argue. Don't go and mess with those Career kids. If you make an enemy out of any of them, you are doomed. And no matter how much you want to punch the Capitol prep teams who are going to pretty much suffocate you from the moment you arrive, don't."

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><p><strong>Sooooo...what did you think? Did you like it? What are your thoughts on these two new additions? Leave a comment in the review box, it always makes my day when I see that I've got a review! If you want to, the questions are below:<strong>

_**What did you think of this chapter?**_

_**Which of the tributes stood out to you?**_

_**If you could have played any of the characters (regardless of age, race, gender) in the Hunger Games Trilogy, who would it be and why?**_

**I can't guarantee an update on Friday as I have an essay due Thursday and a presentation a week on Monday so I have a lot of work to do...but I will try!**

**Happy writing,**

**PenMagic x**


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